Transformations in Africana Studies: History, Theory, and Epistemology 1032277475, 9781032277479

Citation preview

TRANSFORMATIONS IN AFRICANA STUDIES

This book introduces readers to the rich discipline of Africana Studies, reflecting on how it has developed over the last fifty years as an intellectual enterprise for knowledge production about Africa and the African diaspora. The African world has always had a wealth of indigenous knowledge systems, but for the greater part of the scholarly history, hegemonic Western epistemologies have denied the authenticity of African indigenous ways of knowing. The ­post-​­colonial era has seen steady and deliberate efforts to expand the frontiers of knowledge about black people and their societies, and to Africanize such bodies of knowledge in all fields of human endeavor. This book reflects on how the multidisciplinary discipline of Africana Studies has transformed and reinvented itself as it has sought to advance knowledge about the African world. The contributors consider the foundations of the discipline, its key theories and methods of knowledge production, and how it interacts with popular culture, Women’s Studies, and other area studies such as Ethnic and ­A fro-​­Latinix Studies. Bringing together rich insights from across history, religion, literature, art, sociology, and philosophy, this book will be an important read for students and researchers of Africa and Africana Studies. Adebayo Oyebade holds a PhD in History from Temple University, Philadelphia. He is currently Professor of History and Chair of the department at Tennessee State University where he also teaches African history courses. He has authored numerous journal articles and book chapters on African and African Diasporan history. He is the author, editor, and c­ o-​­editor of eleven books including Culture and Customs of Angola. His latest book is the c­ o-​­edited volume, Africa in the ­Twenty-​­First Century: The Promise of Development and Democratization.

TRANSFORMATIONS IN AFRICANA STUDIES History, Theory, and Epistemology

Edited by Adebayo Oyebade

Designed cover image: Chris Griffiths First published 2023 by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2023 selection and editorial matter, Adebayo Oyebade; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Adebayo Oyebade to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library ­Cataloguing-­​­­in-​­P ublication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress ­Cataloging-­​­­in-​­P ublication Data Names: Oyebade, Adebayo, editor. Title: Transformations in Africana studies : history, theory, and epistemology / edited by Adebayo Oyebade. Description: Abingdon, Oxon ; New York, NY : Routledge, 2023. | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Identifiers: LCCN 2022035762 (print) | LCCN 2022035763 (ebook) | ISBN 9781032277479 (hbk) | ISBN 9781032277493 (pbk) | ISBN 9781003293897 (ebk) Subjects: LCSH: Africa—History—Study and teaching (Higher) | African diaspora—Study and teaching (Higher) Classification: LCC DT19.8 .T73 2023 (print) | LCC DT19.8 (ebook) | DDC 960.071/1—dc23/eng/20220802 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022035762 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022035763 ISBN: ­978-­​­­1-­​­­032-­​­­27749-​­3 (­hbk) ISBN: ­978-­​­­1-­​­­032-­​­­27747-​­9 (­pbk) ISBN: ­978-­​­­1-­​­­0 03-­​­­29389-​­7 (­ebk) DOI: 10.4324/­9781003293897 Typeset in Bembo by codeMantra

CONTENTS

Preface and Acknowledgments ix List of Contributors xi Introduction: Toward an Africana Epistemology Adebayo Oyebade

1

PART 1

Foundations and Development of the Discipline

15

1 Mission Conscious: On the Foundation, Development, and Problems of the Field of Black Studies Rebecca S. Dixon

17

2 Why Africology? A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

30

3 A Century of ­A frica-​­Centered Programs on Black Campuses: Creating a Multimodal Collaborative Africana Studies Digital Project at HBCUs Andrea Ringer, Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat and A. Hannibal Leach 4 Kwame Nkrumah, Black Activism, and the Emergence and Development of Africana Studies Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

45

66

vi Contents

5 The Local and the Global: Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa Dele Layiwola

77

6 Specialization or Interdisciplinarity? African Studies in Africa at a Crossroads Chika C. Mba

93

PART 2

Theories and Methods of Knowledge Production

107

7 Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa: ‘­A frocentric Epistemology’ as an Emancipatory Discourse Biruk Shewadeg

109

8 Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies: The Case for African Cosmology Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

126

9 Colonial History and Documentary Sources: Insights from Southern Nigeria Bright Chiazam Alozie

145

10 Abina and the Important Men: Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

165

11 Afrocentricity and Africana Studies: A Bibliographical Survey Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

184

PART 3

Gender, Popular Culture, and Literary Spaces

201

12 Returning, Seeking, and Offering: Sankofa and Black Feminist History, ­­1979–​­​­​­2019 K.T. Ewing

203

13 Women’s Studies in Nigeria: A Critical Perspective Folasade Hunsu

218

Contents  vii

14 “­Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing”: Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music Michael T. Bertrand

236

15 Exploring Migration Literature: Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

256

16 “­A Film Is Banned If the Ladies Say So”: Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, ­1912–​­1963 Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

271

Epilogue: Africana Studies: Looking Back to Confront the Future 288 Adebayo Oyebade Bibliography 293 Index 297

PREFACE AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The emergence of Africana Studies as a distinct field in the American academy occurred just a little over half a century ago. In 1969, the first Black Studies program, as it was then called, came into existence in the USA. This milestone in the historical trajectories of Africana Studies provides an opportunity to evaluate the historicity and development of the discipline. The present volume thus emanates from an attempt to broaden our understanding of the discipline by situating it within a framework that investigates its historical, methodological, and conceptual transformative charisma. The volume represents a ­t rans-​­Atlantic convergence of voices from multiple subaltern disciplines that make up Africana Studies. Though multidisciplinary in perspective given the very nature of the discipline, in its collective articulation, the volume offers a holistic study of the multiple dimensions of Africanity through history, literature, music, gender, and other expressive genres. As an addition to the literature on the fledgling field of Africana Studies, the volume examines the meanings of Africana Studies, and interrogates its core projects of knowledge production about African and diasporan identities, and the Africanization of knowledge about the black experience. It has taken almost five years for this volume to come to fruition. I would like to thank the contributors for their patience during this long process of production. Drawing on their various areas of research and interest, they have made this book an important addition to the literature on Africana Studies through their invaluable contributions I thank Helena Hurd, Global Development and African Studies Editor, and Rosie Anderson, Editorial Assistant, at Routledge for their very useful comments and guidance in turning the manuscript into a book.

x  Preface and Acknowledgments

I greatly appreciate my colleagues at Tennessee State University, Dr. Gashawbeza Bekele and Dr. Wosene Yefru, for their enthusiastic involvement in this project one way or the other. Finally, I thank my wife, Folashade, for her unflinching support, from the inception of the project to its production. Adebayo Oyebade Nashville, TN.

CONTRIBUTORS

Editor Adebayo Oyebade holds a PhD in History from Temple University, Philadel-

phia. He is currently Professor of History and Chair of the department at Tennessee State University where he also teaches African history courses. He has authored numerous journal articles and book chapters on African and African Diasporan history. He is the author, editor, and c­ o-​­editor of eleven books including Culture and Customs of Angola (­Greenwood 2007, authored). His latest book is the ­co-​­edited volume, Africa in the T ­ wenty-​­First Century: The Promise of Development and Democratization (­Lexington Books, 2019).

Contributors Bright Chiazam Alozie is Assistant Professor in the Black Studies Department and affiliate faculty in the Department of History at Portland State University, Portland, Oregon, USA. His research spans Nigeria, West Africa, and the Black world with specialized interests in social and political history, petitions and local voices, women, gender and sexuality, slavery and colonialism, conflicts and wars, identity and memory politics, digital and oral history, protests, and resistance movements. He holds a PhD in History from West Virginia University. Michael T. Bertrand is Professor of History at Tennessee State University, where he teaches courses on modern U.S., Civil Rights, and the American South. He obtained his PhD degree in History from the University of Memphis in Tennessee. His research focuses on the relationship between popular culture, music, and social change in southern history. The author of Race, Rock, and Elvis (­University of Illinois Press, 2000), Dr. Bertrand is currently working on a manuscript on the significance of Rock ‘­n’ Roll in Southern History.

xii Contributors

Elizabeth Dachowski is Professor of History at Tennessee State University and specializes in medieval European history and ­pre-​­modern Europe. She teaches World History, Global Culture and History, and advanced courses on Ancient, Medieval, and ­ Renaissance-​­ Reformation Europe. Her PhD in History is from the University of Minnesota. Dr. Dachowski is the author of First Among Abbots: The Career of Abbo of Fleury (­Catholic University of America Press, 2013). She is currently working on a project on cultural change in ­eleventh-​ ­century England. Rebecca S. Dixon is Professor of English at Tennessee State University. She obtained her MA and PhD degrees in African American Studies from Temple University, Philadelphia. Her fields of specialization are p­ ost-​­colonial African and diasporic literature, and gender studies. Her current research is on the novels of Caryl Phillips and on the history and literature of slavery in the ancient world and in America. K.T. Ewing is Associate Professor of History at Tennessee State University. She holds a PhD in History from the University of Memphis. Her research interests include African American history, women and gender studies, and the influence of blues culture in American society. Her current book project, Remember My Name: Alberta Hunter and the T ­ wo-​­Faced Archive, is a biography examining the life of Alberta Hunter, a ­t wentieth-​­century blues and cabaret singer from Memphis, Tennessee. Folasade Hunsu holds a PhD in English and currently teaches in the Department

of English, Obafemi Awolowo University, Nigeria. Her research interests are in Women’s Studies and African literature and literary theory, areas where she has published extensively. She has held visiting fellowships at a number of institutions and won scholarly awards including the Cadbury Fellowship, the Carnegie Fellowship, and the Fulbright. Bernard Steiner Ifekwe  obtained his PhD in History from the University of Calabar in Nigeria. He currently teaches in the Department of History and International Studies, University of Uyo, Nigeria. He is the author of many publications including book chapters and journal articles. His research has focused on cultural history of Jamaica, and social, political, and labor history of Africa. Dele Layiwola is Professor of African Studies at the University of Ibadan where

he has served twice as director of the university’s Institute of African Studies. He was editor of African Notes, the international journal of the Institute of African Studies. He obtained his PhD in Theatre Studies at the School of English, University of Leeds, and he has published extensively in the fields of comparative literature, performance and cultural studies, and theater studies. His publications include an edited book, The ­City-​­State of Ibadan: Texts and Contexts (­2015).

Contributors  xiii

A. Hannibal Leach obtained his PhD in Political Science from the University

of Mississippi. He is Assistant Dean of the School of Humanities and Behavioral Social Sciences at Fisk University, where he also serves as Associate Professor of Political Science and Director of the African American Studies Program. His research blends American Politics, International Relations, and African American Studies with critical race theory and political leadership. His current research uses computational methods to understand how critical race theory helps to explain political and social phenomena. Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat  holds a doctorate degree from the Department of Africology and African American Studies at Temple University and is currently Assistant Professor of Africana Studies at Tennessee State University. Dr. Maat is the editor of A College Introduction to ­African-​­Centered Theory: Readings in Africana Studies (­Cognella); ­co-​­edits Siyabonana: The Journal of Africana Studies; and has published articles in scholarly journals including Journal of Pan African Studies. Maat’s research interests are in Africana cosmology, religion and spiritual philosophy, ­A frican-​­centered theory, and Africana queer theory. Chika C. Mba is a Research Fellow at the Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana, Legon. He holds a PhD in Philosophy from the University of Ibadan, Ibadan, Nigeria. He teaches and researches in African philosophy, decolonization, and global Justice. Samson Kaunga Ndanyi  holds a PhD in African History from Indiana University. He is Assistant Professor of African History and Africana Studies at Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee, where he teaches courses in African history, Africana Studies, and World History. Dr. Ndanyi studies cinema, child labor, cannabis, and gender in colonial and postcolonial Africa, on which he has published several essays. His book, Instructional Cinema and African Audiences in Colonial Kenya, ­1926–​­1963, is forthcoming. Ndanyi is currently working on a manuscript on cannabis in Kenya. Victor Oguejiofor Okafor obtained his PhD in African American Studies from Temple University. He is currently the head of the Department of Africology and African American Studies at Eastern Michigan University. Dr. Okafor has published many scholarly articles in academic journals and is the author of five books including Towards an Understanding of Africology (­Kendal Hunt, 2021). Andrea Ringer holds a PhD in History from the University of Memphis. She is

Assistant Professor of History at Tennessee State University, where she teaches U.S. history, Atlantic World history, and labor history. She has worked in several museums and other cultural institutions. She is currently working on several ongoing ­g rant-​­funded digital projects that examine HBCU institutional history.

xiv Contributors

Biruk Shewadeg is Philosophy Lecturer at Addis Ababa Science and Technology

University, Ethiopia. Currently, he is a PhD fellow at the Center for African and Asian Studies, Addis Ababa University, Ethiopia. His areas of interest include issues in African Philosophy and Politics. He has published articles in academic journals including Conflict Trends, and chapters in edited volumes. Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu is Assistant Professor of German and African Dias-

pora Studies at Colorado College, Colorado Springs. He received his PhD from Vanderbilt University in German Studies with specialization in t­wenty-­​­­first-​ c­entury German literature and culture and a Graduate Certificate in Second Language Studies. His research interests include the genre of autobiography, the depiction of culture, and Blackness in A ­ frican-​­German Migration literature. Dr. Uhuegbu had previously taught at the University of Benin, Nigeria.

INTRODUCTION Toward an Africana Epistemology Adebayo Oyebade

Introduction In the spring of 1968, Nathan Hare, a black ­activist-​­scholar at San Francisco State College (­now San Francisco State University), established the first “­Black Studies” program (­now “­A fricana Studies Department”) in the United States.1 This was an epochal event representing the genesis of an intellectual tradition which offers an ­A frica-​­centered academic study of the varied experiences of Africans and their diasporic descendants. Since its inception in the 1960s, Africana Studies has been firmly established as a field of academic inquiry in the United States. Globally, whatever way the discipline is named, it has become a force to reckon with in the academy and has made invaluable contributions to scholarship. To be sure, knowledge production by black people has an antiquity that has not often readily been acknowledged in Western literature. But African indigenous knowledge systems have been well researched to remove any doubts as to their validity as authentic epistemology.2 Historical consciousness and preservation, expression of religious, social, and cultural traditions and ethos, and construction of political and economic systems are as old as African societies. Although enslavement deliberately sought to destroy bondmen’s Africanity, in the black diaspora of the New World the capacity to build knowledge that reflected their own experiences was never destroyed. By the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, academic works had begun to be produced by American blacks. By the middle of the twentieth century, their counterparts in Africa were actively engaged in the same endeavor of knowledge production through academic writing. In the United States, the year 2019 marked the 50th anniversary of the emergence of the field, then popularly known as “­Black Studies.” This then suggests that Africana Studies as a specialized academic discipline is relatively a recent DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-1

2  Adebayo Oyebade

phenomenon. This milestone provides an opportunity to appraise the development of the discipline in its historical and theoretical scopes and as an intellectual enterprise and epistemological agency for knowledge production about Africa and the African diaspora. Indeed, over ­half-­​­­a-​­century of the disciplines’ existence has produced a scholarly field which has transformed and reinvented itself in many ways and on multiple levels as it seeks to advance knowledge about the African world. Not only that; it has also constituted a major influence on the emergence of other academic disciplines and area studies such as Women/­Feminist Studies, Ethnic and Cultural Studies, and A ­ fro-​­Latinx Studies. This book aims at broadening our understanding of Africana Studies as an academic field through essays which interrogate its continued evolution and transformations. This introductory chapter provides a broad examination of the discipline’s historical foundations and development, methodological innovations and advancements, and theoretical conceptualization. It also discusses the organization of the book and offers synopsis of each chapter.

Foundations and Historical Trajectories: An Overview Academic study of the black experience was enhanced in the 1960s by two interrelated events of monumental breadth on both sides of the Atlantic. One was the increased pace of the nationalist movement in Africa after World War II that led to decolonization in the early 1960s. Decolonization was epochal, in that it gave rise to sovereign states that were expected to chart a new course for African development. But African decolonization had a reverberation beyond the continent, influencing an equally significant event on the other side of the Atlantic. It somewhat helped to shape the civil rights revolution of the 1960s in the United States. Like decolonization in Africa, American civil rights revolution challenged the racist status quo in America that had for generations stifled black progress. But decolonization in Africa and the civil rights revolution in America did more than open new opportunities for black political advancement in each constituency; the interrelated project was instrumental to the fashioning of new epistemological universes for retelling African and diaspora historical and contemporary realities.

Globalizing Africana Studies In the United States, in a real sense, the foundation for the intellectualization of the historical and cultural experiences of black people was laid long before the 1960s. This accomplishment came out of the pioneering work of early t­ wentieth-​ c­ entury black scholars such as W.E.B. DuBois, Carter G. Woodson, Arthur A. Schomburg, E. Franklin Frazier, John Henrik Clarke, and John Hope Franklin. These intellectuals taught, researched, documented, and published discourses on different aspects of the black experience in America. A notable development in the efforts to promote African American Studies was the establishment of the

Introduction  3

Association for the Study of Negro Life and History (­now known as the Association for the Study of African American Life and History, ASALH) in 1915 through Carter Woodson’s leadership. It was the work of these black scholars that provided the intellectual platform for Black Studies as an authentic academic field. The 1960s and onwards witnessed the multiplication of substantive Black Studies programs in the United States. One of the most profound legacies of the civil rights revolution was that it helped to cement Africana Studies as an integral part of scholastic curricula of tertiary institutions. In Historically Black Colleges and Universities (­H BCUs), such as Howard University and Clark Atlanta University, Black Studies, as it was then known, was expected to be a liberating and empowerment tool for achieving racial justice for African Americans. Initially, Black Studies was mostly popular in HBCUs and was essentially dominated by activist black scholars. But popular agitation by African American youths had also led to inclusion of black history in the curriculum of predominantly white institutions such as Harvard, Yale, Cornell, and Michigan. Some of them even went further to establish Africana Studies programs. In course of time, backed by Department of Education Title VI funding, institutions such as Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Columbia, UCLA, and others emerged as major centers for the study of black history and culture. As noted earlier, in Africa before colonial interjection, knowledge systems abound among traditional societies in all facets of life, from culture, justice, environment, medicine, architecture, to ethics and spirituality. African cosmologies defined the people’s perception of their reality, identity, social interactions, and their views of the world around them. Knowledge production and preservation, even if in oral format, was also a norm in African cultures. For instance, griots memorialized historical events by passing them down generations. In the colonial period, African chroniclers who had mastered the art of writing committed local histories to paper to authenticate historical consciousness in Africa anteceding coloniality. They also wished to prove Africa’s integral contribution to human civilization. This was an early attempt to correct erroneous Eurocentric scholarship that had denied African epistemology. Although based primarily on orality, the works of these local historians, such as The History of the Gold Coast and Asante (­1895) by Carl Reindorf and The History of the Yorubas (­1921) by Samuel Johnson, immensely contributed to knowledge of histories and cultures of ethnolinguistic groups.3 The p­ ost-​­World War II period ushered in steps at intellectualizing African humanities. In the discipline of history, pioneering this cause from the late 1950s were African scholars such as Kenneth Dike, Cheikh Anta Diop, J. F. Ade Ajayi, Adu Boahen, Bethwell Allan Ogot, and M. S. M. Kiwanuka. Aiding these scholars in their scholarly pursuit of scholarship about Africa were the newly established public institutions of higher learning, the leading ones being the University of Ibadan, Nigeria; the University of Ghana, Legon; Makerere University, Uganda; and Cheikh Anta Diop University, Senegal. These institutions incorporated the study of the various genres of African cultures into their curricular.

4  Adebayo Oyebade

Some of the institutions established substantive academic centers for “­A frican Studies,” as the discipline was popularly referred to in many parts of Africa. For example, the University of Ibadan established its Institute of African Studies in 1962 as a graduate research program to offer advanced degrees in a variety of subjects such as history, anthropology, music, visual arts, gender, traditional religion and belief systems, media, and diasporan studies. Similar endeavors were the Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana (­1963); the Institute of African Studies, University of Sierra Leone (­1963); and Center of African Studies, University of Zambia (­1966). The academic study of aspects of African culture was not confined to institutions in Africa and the United States. In Europe, even during the colonial period, imperial powers were always interested in studying their colonial subjects and their cultures. The British, for example, commissioned colonial officials to produce works on the history and cultures of the peoples in their jurisdiction. The result was an array of ethnographic studies, although essentially lacking in informed understanding of Africa as they were often undertaken to rationalize and validate the colonial project. Nevertheless, it was partly from this framework that the study of Africa developed in Europe. In the United Kingdom, by the early 1940s, the School of Oriental and African Studies (­SOAS), a college of the University of London, had established itself as a center for disciplines related to Africa. But in the 1960s, substantive African Studies programs were opening all over Europe. The Hayter Commission mandated to look at the question of improving the study of n ­ on-​­Western cultures in the United Kingdom submitted a report in 1961 which recommended the establishment of area studies, including African Studies in universities.4 A product of this initiative was the Centre of African Studies, University of Edinburgh, established in 1962. Similar centers were established in other universities, notably Birmingham (­1963), Leeds (­1964), and Cambridge (­1965). Elsewhere in Europe, in Germany for instance, the University of Bayreuth opened in 1975 with an institute for African Studies. In Poland, in Eastern Europe, the University of Warsaw’s Center for African Studies was founded in 1962.5 Similar trend of establishing Africana Studies programs occurred in other parts of the world, chiefly in South America and Asia. The emergence of the field in Latin America and the Caribbean was influenced by the black empowerment thought and activism of the 1960s in the United States. This was on the backdrop of the foundations already laid by leading ­Pan-​­Africanists such as Jamaica’s Marcus Garvey, the Trinidadian duo of George Padmore and C.L.R. James, and the West Indian Marxist intellectual Frantz Fanon. In addition to these influences, in Brazil in particular where academic study of Africa is more popular, the field emerged out of the unique interest that A ­ fro-​­Brazilians had for Africa on account of their close historical and cultural relationship with the continent.6 The study of Yoruba culture is particularly popular in Brazil, and has been a subject of academic study in institutions such as the University of São Paulo (­USP) and Federal University of Bahia, two of the earliest to promote A ­ fro-​­Brazilian

Introduction  5

Studies.7 In general, ­A fro-​­Latin American Studies is the more popular subdivision of Africana Studies in Latin America.8 The emergence of Africana Studies in Asia was linked to the politics of decolonization in Africa in the p­ ost-​­World War II period. India, a former colonial territory, was easily drawn into the African anticolonial movement. Its intellectuals naturally took interest in the African struggle, and African issues assumed a subject of academic study. By 1954, the African Studies Department at the University of Delhi had been established to offer graduate degrees in interdisciplinary subjects on Africa. The University of Mumbai established its own Africana Studies program in 1971 and became a substantive center, the Centre for African Studies in 1984. Jawaharlal Nehru University also established the Centre for African Studies in 1969. Through these centers, India was emerging as a leader in Africana Studies in Asia. However, Africana Studies has also gained popularity in other parts of Asia including Japan and especially China, given Beijing’s deliberate and increasing investment foray into Africa.9

Conceptual Frameworks Although Africana Studies has a relatively short history, it has seen evolutionary conceptual transformations in many dimensions including the definition of the discipline, theory building, and methodology.

Defining the Discipline Africana Studies has been variously defined by scholars, although all underscore the same characterizing dynamics of the discipline. In defining the field, Robert L. Harris, Jr., emeritus professor of Africana Studies at Cornell University, succinctly captures its core foundations thus: Africana Studies is the multidisciplinary analysis of the lives and thought of people of African ancestry on the African continent and throughout the world. It embraces Africa, ­A fro-​­America, and the Caribbean, but does not confine itself to those three geographical areas. Africana studies examines people of African ancestry wherever they may be f­ound—​­for example, in Central and South America, Asia, and the Pacific Islands. Its primary means of organization are racial and cultural. Many of the themes of Africana studies are derived from the historical position of African peoples in relation to Western societies and in the dynamics of slavery, oppression, colonization, imperialism, emancipation, s­elf-​­determination, liberation, and socioeconomic and political development.10 From the above definition, Africana Studies is fundamentally a study of all facets of the African and diasporan African identities, experiences, and expressions through scholarly investigations into their histories, cultures, and institutions.

6  Adebayo Oyebade

Given its conceptual scope, the discipline is necessarily multidisciplinary. It offers an investigative framework that employs traditional and associate liberal arts disciplines such as history and culture, literature, language, religion, philosophy, psychology, art, and music to expound black humanities. As a field which encompasses the study of peoples of African descent, Africana Studies integrates several ­geo-​­specific constituent disciplines, including African Studies, African American Studies, ­A fro-​­Caribbean Studies, ­A fro-​­Brazilian Studies, and ­A fro-​­Latin American Studies. The nature of the discipline then poses a dilemma which has spawned a lot of debate, that is, how it should be named.11

The Question of Nomenclature In its formative years in the United States, the discipline was christened “­Black Studies,” a nomenclature which projected the study of black culture and experiences in a global but racial context. But several departments and programs were contented with narrow formulations such as “­­Afro-​­American Studies” and “­­African-​­American Studies” which gave preponderance to African American issues. However, as the field progressively developed, several scholars felt the need for an expression of geographical and cultural identity in the way the programs were named. This led to calls for name change leading to the adoption of terminologies such as “­­Pan-​­African Studies” and “­A frican and African Diasporan Studies.” These nomenclatures were symbolic of the plural character of the discipline. More recently, a few institutions including Temple University, the University of W ­ isconsin-​­Milwaukee, and Eastern Michigan University, adopted the name “­A fricology” to describe their programs. Leading this trend, Temple’s Department of Africology and African American Studies, once described as “­the very heart of Africology,”12 had as its mission the training of graduate students in “­A frocentric study of the history, culture, art, politics and economics of Africans, African Americans and people of African descent.”13 Molefi Kete Asante, a ­long-​ t­erm chair of the Temple program and the chief proponent of the Afrocentric theory, was one of the first to propose the nomenclature “­A fricology” for the discipline. Asante argued that the term expressed best the Afrocentric study of the black experience. Proposing a rationale for Africology, Asante stated: I would like to advance the idea that Africology is a logical name for our enterprise. It is based on sound intellectual principles and rational grounds. For example, it is broadly the “­study of Africa”… Africology is the best word to describe an Afrocentric study of African phenomena ­ t rans-​ g­ enerationally and ­t rans-​­continentally. While the materials, historical and cultural, out of which our consciousness develops are plentiful, it seems to me that in Africology, we have a definite connection between what we do and who we are as scholars. The production of knowledge by Africologists

Introduction  7

and the validation of that knowledge by other scholars in the discipline are at the core of our academic identity.14 Despite the plurality of nomenclature, in general, the foundation of Africana Studies was predicated on two interrelated bedrocks. First, it was instituted to affirm the study of black people, their cultures, and societies as an authentic intellectual enterprise. Second, the field was expected to expand the frontiers of knowledge about the black experience in all fields of human endeavor.

Theory Building and Intellectual Traditions Like any other discipline, Africana Studies has generated a set of theories and paradigms for its enhancement and validity as an intellectual project. In a study, San Francisco State University professor Serie McDougal identified a host of these theories and paradigms thus: The Afrocentric Paradigm, the African Centered Behavioral Change Paradigm, Literary Pan-Africanism, the Sacred Worldviews Paradigm, the Worldview Paradigm Analysis, Kawaida Paradigm, the Triple Quandary Theory, the Two Cradle Theory, African Self Consciousness Theory, ­A fricana Critical Theory, the African American Family Functioning Model, Africana Womanism, the Africanity Model, African Feminism, ­A fro-​­Latinidad, Agency Reduction Formation Theory, the A nti-​­ ­ Life Forces Model, the Black Consciousness Continuum, Black Existentialism, Black Feminist Theory, Black Queer Theory, ­Eco-­​­­Bio-​ ­Communitarianism, the Education and Schooling Model, the Extended Self Paradigm, the Holistic/­Solutions Framework for Studying Black Families, Invisibility Syndrome Theory, the Laissez Faire Model of Racism, the Lens Theory, Location Theory, Nigrescence Theory, the Nosology of African American Personality Disorder, Nzuri Theory, ­Post-​­Traumatic Slave Syndrome, Sudarkasa’s Seven R’s Model: Seven Cardinal Values of African Family Life, Billingsley’s Social Systems Approach to the Study of Black Family Life, Site of Resiliency Theory, ­Situated-​­Mediated Identity Theory (­SMIT), the TRIOS (­Time, Rhythm, Improvisation, Orality, and Spirituality) Model and, the Tripartite Model of Racism.15 The various strands of Africana Studies theories and paradigms fit into two broad intellectual pathways: the Africanist and the Afrocentric traditions. While the ­black-​­dominated civil rights revolution was a major catapult in the establishment of Black Studies in North America, Africana Studies came to be largely dominated by predominantly white institutions such as Harvard and by European and white American scholars. One of the prominent “­A fricanists,” as these scholars were often identified, was Melville Herskovits, author of the influential The Myth of Negro Past published in 1941. Herskovits’ pioneering effort in Africanist

8  Adebayo Oyebade

tradition in the United States included serving as the first president of the African Studies Association (­ASA) of America. Other pioneers such as Basil Davidson, John Fage, David Henige, Terence Ranger, Jan Vansina, and Ivor Wilks were academics who specialized on different aspects of African cultures. These Africanists, with their counterparts in Africa such as Kenneth Dike, Jacob Ade Ajayi, and Adu Boahen, to name a few, contributed enormously through research, teaching, and publication to the growth of African Studies. One of the major instruments for the sustenance of Africanist scholarship is its largest professional organization, the ASA, established in 1957. The organization hosts an annual international conference said to be “­attended by approximately 2,000 participants from around the world and across all academic disciplines.”16 The association also sponsors two major publications, African Studies Review (­ASR) and History in Africa: A Journal of Debates, Methods, and Source Analysis, that have been a major avenue for Africanist to disseminate their research findings. In general, the Africanists tradition has produced vast literature on all aspects of the African humanities. The Africanist tradition has, however, been faulted on some grounds. One is the question of the extent to which it has succeeded in realizing one of the core values of Africana Studies: the Africanization of scholarship about Africa. There has been a contention that a great deal of the Africanist scholarship is masked in hegemonic, patriarchal, Eurocentric canon. Historian Paul Tiyambe Zeleza once accused Africanist scholars of being “­increasingly prescriptive, focusing on Africa’s deficiencies…”17 In the same vein, Africanist scholarship has been accused of what the Tunisian writer and critique Haythem Guesmi referred to as “­the gentrification of African studies,” that is, the marginalization of ­A frican-​­based scholars in knowledge production about Africa and its dissemination. Guesmi, indeed, sees African studies as one “­whose postulates and propositions are largely defined outside the continent.”18 In underscoring this sentiment, Robtel Pailey expressed the need “­to effectively r­ e-​­insert the ‘­A frican’ in African Studies, not as a token gesture, but as an affirmation that Africans have always produced knowledge about their continent.”19 A competing paradigm, the Afrocentric School, became popular in the 1980s as Asante began to publish works that proposed and defined a theory he called “­A frocentricity,” which later became more popular as “­A frocentrism.”20 This theory came out of the epistemological discourse over the proper way to approach the study of black phenomena. Central to Asante’s Afrocentric logic is the idea of location, that is, the intellectual prism from which to investigate African experiential realities and cultural values in a way to produce knowledge that is valid. The Afrocentric tradition was thus founded on the premise that the study of Africa would be flawed unless it is centered on or located within the parameters of African agencies and epistemological values. In essence, Afrocentricity was conceived as a rejection of and counternarrative to Eurocentric paradigms which, for much of intellectual history, has constituted the bedrock of knowledge and ways of knowing. Not only that, Afrocentrists argue

Introduction  9

that Eurocentric construction of knowledge often assumed a hegemonic universality that marginalizes other epistemic frameworks. Asante emphasizes in several writings that Afrocentrism is essentially a critique of the Eurocentric perspective from which, according to him, much of Africana Studies had been approached. The Afrocentric movement is almost solely an enterprise articulated and promoted by black scholars. Many of the Afrocentric scholars tend to blend their scholarship with activism while acknowledging the centrality of scholarly research in African Studies as an academic discipline. Thus, Afrocentric s­cholar-​ ­activists stress the need for their discipline to be used as a catalyst for a black empowerment. Originally, Temple University’s Africology and African American Studies Department was the Afrocentric intellectual center. This has been Asante’s home base for decades where he created the first doctoral program in the nation in the discipline. The program has produced scores of graduates who are now tenured in many institutions across the United States and spreading the gospel of Afrocentricity.21 Just as the ASA has been the most recognized professional body for Africanist in the United States, the National Council for Black Studies (­NCBS) is the flagship organization for Afrocentrists. It was formed in 1975 with a mission “­to promote academic excellence and social responsibility in the discipline of Africana/­Black Studies through the production and dissemination of knowledge, professional development and training, and advocacy for social change and social justice.”22 The association sponsors an annual conference, the fortieth edition of which was held in Charlotte, North Carolina, in March 2016. Afrocentrists have produced an incredible volume of work especially on the African American experience. The most popular mouthpiece for the expression of Afrocentric scholarship appears to be the ­bi-​­monthly Journal of Blacks Studies, long edited by Asante. This journal has published a plethora of works which showcase Afrocentric research on a wide range of subjects. Another important outlet of Afrocentric expression is the International Journal of Africana Studies, which is a product of the NCBS. Afrocentric scholarship has largely been controversial, thus widely criticized by both black and white scholars especially on some of its epistemological groundings.23 Nevertheless, there can be no denying that it has remained a major force in the theoretical and methodological development of Africana Studies.

Organization of the Book This volume brings together sixteen original essays which interrogate Africana Studies as an academic discipline. By the very nature of the discipline, the volume’s approach is multidisciplinary but holistic in its collective articulation of the transformational curves in Africana Studies as related to its foundations and historical development, methodological advancement, and theoretical conceptualization. The book thus aims at contributing to the academic dialogue about the meanings of the discipline and its core project of advancing and Africanizing

10  Adebayo Oyebade

knowledge about the black experience. The contributors, continental and ­d iasporan-​­based, represent subaltern disciplines in Africana Studies such as History, Africology, Women’s Studies, Music, and Literature. Collectively, they bring to the volume different disciplinary perspectives but producing a coherent discourse. The sixteen substantive chapters are organized into three parts. The chapters in each part deal with interrelated broad themes. Part 1, Foundations and Development of the Discipline, consists of six chapters each of which discusses the foundations and development of Africana Studies from diverse perspectives. In ­Chapter 1, Rebecca S. Dixon critiques frameworks for the discipline, with reference to conceptual problems inherent in the Afrocentric theory. The chapter highlights this theory and posits that despite its flaws, it has opened new theoretical possibilities and remains fundamental to the field of Africana Studies. The subject of terminology in the way the study of Africa is named as an intellectual discipline has always been an integral part of the historical development of Africana Studies. ­Chapter  2 contributes to the debate over the appropriate name for the discipline and its academic department or program. In the chapter, Victor Oguejiofor Okafor offers a lucid enquiry into the term “­A fricology,” a nomenclature employed by a few universities in the United States to name their programs and describe the disciplinary framework. In ­Chapter 3, Andrea Ringer, Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat, and A. Hannibal Leach, examine the role of HBCU’s in the conceptualization and understanding of the purposes and functions of Africana Studies programs. Their analysis utilizes as case study the Africana Studies programs at Tennessee State University and Fisk University, both located in Nashville, Tennessee. The chapter further explores the emerging field of digital history and humanities in Africana Studies and the significance of digital archiving. The pioneering effort in Africa to develop academic study of Africa greatly benefitted from the leadership of Ghana’s first President Kwame Nkrumah. His most notable contribution was perhaps his consistent call on African scholars to build a decolonized body of knowledge, one with a transformative quality ­ hapter 4, Bernard Steiner Ifekwe functional for continental development. In C ­ an-​­Africanist, to the explores the contribution of the Ghanaian leader, a noted P emergence and development of Africana Studies in Africa and his influence on the consolidation of the field in the United States. ­ hapter 5. While the Dele Layiwola focuses on African Studies in Africa in C reality of Africa’s knowledge production systems is in no doubt, the author raises probing questions about data appropriation and interpretation in African Studies’ research. He focuses on what he considers a deficiency in the way data is engaged or applied in knowledge production about Africa, that is, its subjection to external methodological inferences. This is a challenge that Layiwola argues forms the basis for what he calls scientific and technological gap in Africana knowledge systems. As solution to this gap, Layiwola proposes methodological reinvention as opposed to reliance on borrowed approaches.

Introduction  11

Along the same line of the critique of Africana Studies in Africa, Chika C. Mba’s discourse in ­Chapter  6 poses pertinent questions about the state of the discipline. Africana Studies’ scholars and stakeholders, not only in Africa but also in the diaspora, have been confronted with the question of the utility of the discipline, especially to its graduates who must seek employment after graduation in a job market that is increasingly marginalizing the humanities in general and particularly area studies. This then raises another question, the raison d’être for its continued existence in the academy. Exploring these concerns, the chapter interrogates what seems to be a dominant paradigm in Africana Studies on the continent, the look toward the Global North for intellectual and institutional collaboration rather than ­intra-​­African partnership. Mba also examines the dilemma posed by the field’s emphasis on specialization in core subject, despite its interdisciplinary nature. Part 2, Theories and Methods of Knowledge Production, consists of five chapters on theoretical and methodological perspectives to constructing African systems of knowledge. In C ­ hapter 7, the first essay in the section, Biruk Shewadeg continues the discourse on the Afrocentric theory, positing that its central intellectual validity is its provision of a legitimate epistemological way of knowing, especially issues of black experience. Shewadeg argues the necessity of ­re-​­problematizing explanations of phenomena related to Africa, shorn of contraptions of Eurocentric attitudes and conceptual frameworks. While stressing the emancipatory quality of Afrocentricity, Shewadeg examines its critique as well. A growing scholarship on Queer identities in Africana intellectual space is quite evident. In ­Chapter 8, Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat examines perspectives on Queer identities from the intellectual viewpoint and attempts to conceptualize the development of an ­A frica-​­centered Queer theory from the framework of the Afrocentric paradigm. The chapter challenges sexist discourses, social treatment of queers, and legislations criminalizing homosexuality in Africa, the Caribbean, and South America. In theorizing about queer studies, Maat posits that traditional African cosmology which expresses humanity in terms of “spirit/energy” could explain how we define sexuality and gender. In essence, the chapter proposes an Afrocentric Black Queer scholarship rooted in African traditional ways of knowing. Bright Chiazam Alozie, in ­Chapter 9, takes a fresh look at the theme of historical documentation, anchoring his research on the significance of written correspondences between the Igbo and British officials in colonial Nigeria. His approach charts a new terrain in this area of historical study by utilizing a body of petitions as primary historical sources. Although cautious of the inherent limitations of sources of this nature, Alozie’s chapter is an important contribution to the intellectual history of colonial Africa, so much as it offers another way of investigating the nature of c­olony-​­metropolis interactions through written correspondences. ­Chapter  10 by Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade examines the emergence and development of graphic history in African historiography. Both

12  Adebayo Oyebade

authors are products of dissimilar research interests: Dachowski, a medievalist, and Oyebade, an Africanist. However, they deploy their differing scholarly backgrounds to offer a synthesis of the expanding graphic form in the historiography of African history. The authors examine this genre as a pedagogical tool, using the ­well-​­received graphic historical novel, Trevor R. Getz’s Abina and the Important Men, as case study. Despite the controversy it has generated, the share volume of works produced on the Afrocentric model has caused the paradigm to establish a most compelling impression on Africana Studies, perhaps more than any other conceptual framework. In ­Chapter 11, Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Maat offer a preliminary bibliography of Afrocentricity, which includes works that not only espouse its theoretical underpinnings, methodological framework, historical interpretation, but also offer its critique. Part 3 of the book on the theme, Gender, Popular Culture, and Literary Spaces, contains five chapters which engage gender issues and literary and cultural expressions in a critical context. Opening the section is C ­ hapter 12, in which K.T. Ewing engages the field of Feminist Studies in the United States, an offshoot of Black Studies. The chapter focuses on critical examination of black women who transformed Black History through mentorship, research, curriculum and institutional development, and organization. In ­Chapter  13, Folasade Hunsu explores the emergence and the history of Women’s Studies in Nigeria. The chapter pays particular attention to conceptual, theoretical, and ideological developments and other critical issues in the fledgling discipline. Hunsu situates the discourse within transformative context of feminist scholarship. ­Chapter 14 by Michael Bertrand discusses black music from the perspective of African American historiography. The chapter examines the scholarship of W.E. B. DuBois and other historians who, despite having no formal expertise in the field of music, utilized it as a primary source in black historical preservation. In ­Chapter 15, Michael Chiedozie Uhuegbu tackles the question of migration ­ frican-​­German literature, using Amina Darko’s Beyond the Horiand identity in A zon as contextual framework to analyze issues of cultural differences and how they are treated in the text. ­Chapter 16 by Samson K. Ndanyi is on motion picture as an entertainment art form and its intersection with issues of race and gender, identity, leisure, and law in colonial Kenya. The chapter further discusses the film industry in the colonial state, focusing on its censorship by the government in its attempt to construct acceptable moral standards in its domain. The chapter examines the history of the industry and the role played, particularly by white and Asian women, to enforce the colonial ban of films that were considered detrimental to the moral ­well-​­being of colonial subjects.

Introduction  13

Notes 1 For detailed analysis on the foundation of this program, see Oba T’Shaka, “­A fricana Studies Department History: San Francisco State University,” Journal of Pan African Studies 5(­7 ), October 2012: ­13–​­32. 2 For a discourse on this subject, see Abebe Zegeye and Maurice Vambe, “­A frican Indigenous Knowledge Systems,” Review (­Fernand Brraudel Center) 28(­4), 2006: ­329–​­58. 3 For more on this subject, see Toyin Falola, Pioneer, Patriot, and Patriarch: Samuel Johnson and the Yoruba People (­Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1994), and Adebayo Oyebade, “­A frica in History: Interpretations, Perspectives, and Methods,” in Toyin Falola and Steven J. Salm (­eds.), Africa Volume 1: African History and Culture before 1900 (­Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2019), ­5 –​­26. 4 See Report of the S ­ ub-​­Committee on Oriental, Slavonic, East European and African Studies (­L ondon: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1961), ­1–​­5. See also William Hayter, “­The Hayter Report and after,” Oxford Review of Education 1(­2), 1975: ­169–​­72. 5 An analysis of African Studies in Poland is provided in Konrad Czernichowski, Dominik Kopiński, and Andrzej Polus, “­Polish African Studies at a Crossroads: Past, Present and Future,” Africa Spectrum 47(­2&/­3), 2012: ­167–​­85. 6 For examples of studies on this subject, see Gerhard Seibert and Paulo Fagundes Visentini (­eds.), ­B razil-​­Africa Relations: Historical Dimensions and Contemporary Engagements from the 1960s to the Present (­Rochester, NY: James Currey, 2019); Niyi Afolabi, Ilê Aiyê in Brazil and the Reinvention of Africa (­New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016); Marcus Vinicius De Freitas, “­Brazil and Africa: Historic Relations and Future Opportunities,” German Marshall Fund of the United States, February, 2016: ­1–​­9; and Livio Sansone, Elisée Soumonni, and Boubacar Barry (­eds.), Africa, Brazil, and the Construction of ­Trans-​­Atlantic Black Identities (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2008). 7 For an early study on this subject, see Aaron Segal, “­A frican Studies in Brazil,” Africa Today, ­August–​­September 1969: ­9 –​­12. 8 A recent study on this is Alejandro de la Fuente and George Reid Andrews (­eds.), ­Afro-​­Latin American Studies: An Introduction (­New York: Cambridge University Press, 2018). See also Milfred C. Fierce, Africana Studies Outside the United States: Africa, Brazil, the Caribbean (­Ithaca, NY: Africana Studies and Research Center, Cornell University, 1991). 9 For the case of China, see Li Anshan, “­A frican Studies in China in the Twentieth Century: A Historiographical Survey,” African Studies Review 48(­1), 2005: ­59–​­87. 10 Robert l. Harris Jr., “­The Intellectual and Institutional Development of Africana Studies,” in Jacqueline Bobo, Cynthia Hudley, and Claudine Michel (­eds.), The Black Studies Reader (­New York: Routledge, 2004), 15. Other useful works examining the essence of the discipline include James E. Turner (­ed.), The Next Decade: Theoretical and Research Issues in Africana Studies (­Brooklyn, NY: Diasporic Africa Press, 2014); Maulana Karenga, Introduction to Black Studies (­L os Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 2010); Nathaniel Norment, Jr. (­ed.), The African American Studies Reader (­Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press, 2007); Molefi Kete Asante and Maulana Karenga (­eds.), Handbook of Black Studies (­Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2006); Mario Azevedo (­ed.), Africana Studies: A Survey of Africa and the African Diaspora (­Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2005); Delores P. Aldridge and Carlene Young (­eds.), Out of the Revolution: The Development of Africana Studies (­Lanham, MD: Lexington Book, 2000); James Conyers, Jr. (­ed.), Africana Studies: A Disciplinary Quest for Both Theory and Method ( ­Jefferson, NC: McFarland & Company, 1997); and Talmadge Anderson (­ed)., Black Studies, Theory, Method and Cultural Perspectives (­Pullman: Washington State University Press, 1990).

14  Adebayo Oyebade

11 For studies on naming, see the following: Ama Mazama, “­Interdisciplinary, Transdisciplinary, or Unidisciplinary? Africana Studies and the Vexing Question of Definition,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Maulana Karenga (­eds.), Handbook of Black Studies (­Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications, 2006), ­3 –​­15, and “­The Naming of the Discipline: The Unsettled Discourse,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Maulana Karenga (­eds.), Handbook of Black Studies, Appendix. See also the following articles published in the Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: Patricia ­Reid-​­Merritt, “­Defining Ourselves: Name Calling in Black Studies,” ­77–​­90; Ama Mazama, “­Naming and Defining: A Critical Link,” ­65–​­76; Maulana Karenga, “­Names and Notions of Black Studies: Issues of Roots, Range, and Relevance,” ­41–​­64; Shirley N. Weber, “­W hat Is in a Name? Addressing the Issue of Program and Curriculum Clarification in Black Studies,” ­8 –​­11; and Molefi Kete Asante, “­A fricology and the Puzzle of Nomenclature,” ­12–​­23. 12 Ama Mazama, “­A fricology and the Question of Disciplinary Language,” Journal of Black Studies 52(­5), 2021: 450. Retrieved August 20, 2021, at https://­journals.sagepub.com/­doi/­pdf/­10.1177/­0 021934721996431 13 Temple University, Africology and African American Studies. Retrieved June 13, 2021, at Graduate|Africology and African American Studies (­temple.edu) 14 Asante, “­A fricology and the Puzzle of Nomenclature,” 13. For more perspectives on Africology, see Winston A. Van Horne, “­A fricology: Considerations Concerning a Discipline,” in Clenora ­Hudson-​­Weems (­ed.), Contemporary Africana Theory, Thought, and Action (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2007), ­105–​­27; and Victor O. Okafor, Towards Understanding Africology (­Dubuque, IA: Kendall/­Hunt, 2006). 15 Serie McDougal III, “­A fricana Studies’ Epistemic Identity: An Analysis of Theory and Epistemology in the Discipline,” Journal of African American Studies 18(­2), 2014: ­236–​­50. 16 ASA website, retrieved August 18, 2021, at About the ASA (­a fricanstudies.org) 17 Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, “­A frican Studies and Universities since Independence,” Transition 101, 2009: 119. 18 Haythem Guesmi, “­The Gentrification of African Studies,” in Africa is a Country. Retrieved July 14, 2021, at [https://­a fricasacountry.com/­2018/­12/­­the-­​­­gentrification-­​ ­­of-­​­­african-​­studies]. For similar thought, see also Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, “­The Perpetual Solitudes and Crises of African Studies in the United States,” Africa Today 44(­2), ­April–​­June 1997: ­193–​­210. 19 Robtel Neajai Pailey, “­W here Is the ‘­A frican’ in African Studies?” African Arguments, June 7, 2016. Retrieved July 24, 2021, at https://­ a fricanarguments. org/­2016/­06/­­where-­​­­is-­​­­the-­​­­a frican-­​­­i n-­​­­a frican- ​­studies/ 20 Asante used the term in his earliest books such as Afrocentricity: The Theory of Social Change (­Buffalo, NY: Amulefe, 1980); The Afrocentric Idea (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1987); Afrocentricity (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1988); and Kemet, Afrocentricity, and Knowledge (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1990). 21 According to Ama Mazama, by 2021 the program had produced over 170 PhDs. See Mazama, “­A fricology and the Question of Disciplinary Language,” 450. 22 National Council for Black Studies, “­M ission Statement.” Retrieved July 28, 2021, at ­Background – ​­National Council of Black Studies (­ncbsonline.org) 23 An example of a virulent criticism of Afrocentricity is Mary Lef kowitz, Not Out of Africa: How “­Afrocentrism” Became an Excuse to Teach Myth as History (­New York: Basic Books, 1997).

PART 1

Foundations and Development of the Discipline

1 MISSION CONSCIOUS On the Foundation, Development, and Problems of the Field of Black Studies Rebecca S. Dixon

Introduction The purpose of this chapter is to discuss the evolutions of the field of African American Studies from its origins as an ­activist-​­based discipline to its current state. The chapter highlights the rise of Afrocentric Theory as a major contributing force in the field and the problems posed by the theory.

Background on Temple University’s Program Temple University was the first American Institution to offer a PhD in African American Studies. The program was founded by Dr. Molefi K. Asante, and the masters and doctoral programs at Temple University were based on his theory of Afrocentricity. According to Molefi K. Asante, “­A frocentricity means literally, placing African ideals at the center of any analysis that involves African cul­ frican-​ ture and behavior.”1 Further the theory indicates that there must be an A c­entered cultural understanding of any phenomenon studied about African peoples to fully appreciate it. The imposition of other cultural standards onto African peoples renders a false perception of the culture or cultural practices. The theory was considered to be revolutionary, in that it gave theoretical backing to the field of Black Studies that was criticized for its supposedly lack of substance and merit as an academic discipline. As a graduate student at Temple University in the 1990s, there was very little room for debate or argument about Afrocentricity. Most of the students who came to the graduate program in African American Studies did so because they had read Asante’s books or had heard about his ideas. Some of the students sought degrees in African American Studies because the traditional departments at Temple University and other schools had limited studies and expertise in Black DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-3

18  Rebecca S. Dixon

phenomenon. There were few universities in the 1980s and early 1990s that offered students the opportunity to study the history and culture of people of African descent at the graduate level. For example, if a student wanted to study African literature or even African American literature, the student would find few programs available at the graduate level. If colleges and universities did offer studies in African American literature, history, or culture, it was generally with the expectation that these were minor fields, or fields that derived from other fields, or one might be told to study, for example, American literature with the possibility of examining a few texts by African American authors. In other words, there was resistance to the study of Black phenomenon.2 Whereas in African American Studies departments, a student seeking to be a scholar of Black literature could study African, African American, and Caribbean literatures without limitations that had plagued traditional disciplines in the Unites States. Indeed, many professors who claimed expertise or had taught Black phenomenon in 1990s gained much of their knowledge through ­self-​­study because of the limitations they encountered during their graduate training. There were students at Temple University from other departments who took courses in African American Studies because there were no experts in the fields in their programs nor were there adequate courses. Thus, many of the graduate students who came to the university’s African American Studies graduate program came with an appreciation of the existence of such a program. Consequently, many of the students in Temple’s graduate program had a romantic perspective of the program affirmed by its celebration the identities of Black people. Yet, the Temple School of African American Studies had its problems. In the 1990s, the department underwent leadership changes brought about by university politics and the rigidity of Asante’s vision. While university politics had long fomented problems for Black Studies departments, at Temple, the theoretical problems inherent in Afrocentricity and the lack of acknowledgment of these problems contributed to the restrictive problems in any course of study or program that is based on Afrocentricity. Moreover, the founding principles of the field of Black Studies conflict with some of the fundamental aspects of Afrocentricity. The contrast between the foundational principles and Afrocentricity should be fully examined in any program choosing to use an Afrocentric theoretical basis. In other words, the problems inherent in the theory can serve either to undermine the program, promoting a narrow perspective or if discussed despite the problems, can lead to meaningful discussions and studies of Black phenomenon.3

Background on Black Studies The field of Black Studies grew out of one of the most important, politically active and successful periods of Black history in the U.S. and cannot be separated from it without severe damage to analytical clarity. The discipline of Black Studies is rooted in the social visions and struggles of the 60s which aimed at Black power, liberation and a higher level of human life.4

Mission Conscious  19

This passage from Maulana Karenga’s book Introduction to Black Studies highlights the goals of Black Studies programs and departments that emerged in the 1960s. As indicated by Karenga, these programs were established in response, in part, to the influences of the Civil Rights Movement and in response to a long history of ­activist-​­based and socially conscious intellectualism among African American scholars.5 Advocates of Black Studies advanced the idea that African Americans needed an education that reflected their identities. In other words, the education that many African Americans received positioned them as outsiders. Black Studies programs sought to be corrective and reveal the contributions of African Americans to American society and later to the world. In addition, these programs recognized that African Americans, especially at predominantly White colleges and universities, needed a space in which they could be affirmed. The belief was that in most courses, Europeans, their descendants, and their contributions were central to the studies. Thus, White Americans in these courses were affirmed in their cultural identity and in the belief that they belonged in the intellectual world and in the professions they chose to pursue. Black Studies programs sought to respond to the problem by affirming the problems, experiences, and contributions of Black students in hopes that this would improve student performance and future success. Sociologist Terry Kershaw affirms this point and notes that Black Studies advances the notion that Black people’s experiences are valuable.6 Moreover, the mission of Black Studies was not only to assert the place of people of African descent in the global stage as contributors to human progress, but also to raise awareness. Informed by in the politics of Civil and Human Rights, these programs were emancipatory, not just in empowering black students but also in raising awareness of social and political issues. Students entering Black Studies classroom were made aware of local, national, and global issues. Students debated issues of importance to the progress of the Black community. These types of ­consciousness-​­raising discussion were intended to foster a sense of communal obligation and to further the idea that black students needed to be equipped with knowledge that would protect them and motivate them as a people living in a country that discriminated against them and that at times refused to acknowledge their humanity and worthiness as citizens of the United States. Thus, the mission conscious Black Studies programs of the 1960s and 1970s sought to continue a ­long-​­standing tradition of racial uplift. African American students who graduated from high schools in the 1980s faced a common problem. These students bore the consequences of p­ ost-​­Civil Rights Movement beliefs that schools in White communities were somehow better than those in predominantly African American communities. Many ­college-​ ­bound African American students were sent to these supposed superior White schools, only to find themselves subjected to the racial discrimination people of their parents and grandparents’ generation fought against. This continued for those that entered predominantly White universities but to a certain extent even at Historically Black Colleges and Universities. One of the few places that these

20  Rebecca S. Dixon

students could find aspects of their cultural identity was in Black Studies programs. Nathan Hare, founder of the first Black Studies program at San Francisco State College, stated that Black Studies programs are intended to promote positive ­self-​­i mage. He explains: The expressive phase (­of Black Studies) refers to the effort to build in black youth a sense of pride or self, of collective destiny, a sense of pastness as a springboard in the quest for a new and better future.7 This generation of college students’ experiences coincided with the emergence of Afrocentric Theory, which, in many ways, was especially designed for them. Having been “­casted out” of their communities, they longed for ideas and issues that reflected their experiences and offered some sort of redemption.

Afrocentricity Emerges The emergence of Asante’s theory of Afrocentricity in the 1980s is not surprising. Asante first proposed his theory at a period when theory was a prominent part of giving distinctive definition to academic disciplines in the humanities and social sciences. Asante’s theory is in keeping with popular theories about centering that proliferated in the 1980s and 1990s. In these theories, the concepts of center, location, periphery, and insider and outsider were often discussed. Specifically, the theories indicated that one cultural or ­identity-​­based perspective was pronounced in any given artistic or intellectual production and that there is a power dynamic at play in all productions. In other words, the cultural identity at the center of intellectual and cultural production is most powerful and in control; those cultural identities that are peripheral lack power.8 Asante’s theory is distinct from others in this category, as he calls for the location and centering of Black people in their African heritage and the study of Black people to be driven by an understanding of the cultural foundation of Black people. Asante asserts, “­A ll knowledge results from an occasion of encounter in place. But the place remains a rightly shaped perspective that allows the Afrocentrist to put African ideals and values at the center of inquiry.”9 Asante’s theory sought to position people of African descent at the center of studies about them. Asante explains the essence of Afrocentricity as “­literally placing African ideals at the center of any analysis that involves African culture and behavior.”10 While this seems obvious, it related recognition of a ­long-​­standing view of Black culture and identity that failed to be sensitive to the culture, beliefs, or identities of Black people. Asante acknowledges the tendency to belittle Black people and look upon them with mocking disapproval. He referred to this practice as the application of a Eurocentric or outsider’s gaze onto Black phenomenon. Asante argues that a valid study of any culture must be sensitive to its cultural norms and beliefs and views any human phenomenon under investigation in its appropriate cultural lens. By introducing this theory, Asante sought to bring to the field a distinction and

Mission Conscious  21

further definition. Asante and other scholars have argued that the field of African American Studies is governed by its own paradigm. Like any field, studies of Black phenomena must be framed in the theories that govern the field. Asante argues: African American Studies is not merely a collection of courses…. African American Studies is a human science, that is, it is committed to discovering in human experiences, historical and contemporary, all the ways African people have tried to make their physical, social, and cultural environments serve the end of harmony. Unlike most social sciences it does not examine from a distance in order to predict behavior. Unlike some other disciples it is neither purely social science nor humanities but a merging of the two fields as well as the use of several approaches to phenomena stemming from the Afrocentric perspective.11 While Asante’s ideas are influential and have helped to extend the field of Black Studies, they were not entirely new. They were reflective of scholarship and ideas espoused by scholars such as Booker T. Washington, W.E.B. DuBois, Marcus Garvey, and Carter G. Woodson.12 Despite Asante’s dismissive perspective of Woodson’s contribution to the foundation of the field of Black Studies, of the early t­ wentieth-​­century scholar, his ideas seem to have the most pronounced influence on Asante’s theory.13 The most prominent influence of Woodson’s work is The Miseducation of the Negro, published in 1933, in which he explained a phenomenon that is central to Asante’s theory, the idea of the inferior s­elf-​­concept. Woodson writes of it in relationship to a servant’s sense of subordinate or inferior identity in relationship to the master. Woodson argues that even at Black institutions of higher education, African Americans were being prepared to live mentally and physically as servants to Whites. In other words, African Americans were being taught not to place themselves at the center of their cultural identity and experience, but as outsiders existing at the periphery of someone else’s experience, that is, White Americans.14 As Asante argues, “­Renunciation of Negroness and western influences are to be highly praised but renunciation of another must be declared an ideological deviation from Afrocentricity.”15 In other words “­Negroness” refers to a mentality of inferiority learned in slavery and perpetuated in freedom through educational, social, and political institutions. Asante clarifies this point later; he writes: There is no ethnic group in Africa that calls itself negro or its language negro. The term is preeminently a creation of the European mind to refer to any African group or people who correspond to a certain negative image of culture. The term is meaningless in reality but has become a useful word for those who would serve a political purpose by the term.16 Thus, Asante’s ideas are congruent with Woodson. Both agree that a new type of education from a perspective that sees African peoples as agents and empowered

22  Rebecca S. Dixon

is necessary. This is an idea fundamental to the establishment of Black Studies program and also to Asante’s theory of Afrocentricity, which posits that education and scholarship must have impact on the s­ elf-​­concept. While Woodson’s ideas about education and theories about location and placement clearly inform Asante’s Afrocentricity, one of the other layers to Afrocentric theory that Asante advances is the return to authentic or real Blackness. This return, Asante suggests, will make the African person whole again. He argues that the “­A frocentircist sees knowledge of this ‘­place’ perspective as a fundamental rule of intellectual inquiry because its contents is a s­ elf-​­conscious obliteration of the subject/­object duality and the enthronement of an African wholism.”17 Asante suggests that the Afrocentric perspective not only offers clarity in studies of African peoples but offers a chance at wholeness for the African person who finds himself or herself located in an African cultural identity and perspective. Asante continues, “­The ­non-​­Afrocentric person operates in a manner that is negatively predictable. The person’s images, symbols, lifestyles, and manner are contradictory and there by destructive to personal and collective growth and development.”18 Thus, Asante articulates the inferior position of the person lacking an African location. Further, the suggestion is that the negative impact of oppression and of European values has undermined the oppressed person mentally and morally. This is an idea that is suggested in Afrocentricity, Afrocentric Idea, and especially Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge. Further, Asante makes it clear that the African composite and the African principles have their origin in Ancient Egypt or Kemet. The idea of Kemet as fundamental to Afrocentricity is alluded to in The Afrocentric Idea but is fully realized in Kemet Afrocentricity and Knowledge. Asante explains, “­The uses of African origins of civilization and the Kemetic high culture as a classical starting point are the practice manifestations of the ways the scholar secures centrism when studying Africa.”19 Further, Asante asserts: I have consistently argued that the African American Studies or African studies scholar whom I shall call “­A fricalogist” must being analysis from the primacy of the classical African civilizations, namely Kemet (­Egypt), Nubia, Axum, and Meroe. This simply means that adequate understanding of African phenomena cannot occur without a reference point in the classic and most documented African culture. This is not to say that everything one writes must be shown to be tied to Egypt, but it means that one cannot write fully without a ­self-​­conscious attempt to place the historical enterprise in an organic relationship to African history.20 While Asante acknowledges the validity of studying other African cultures besides Egypt, he suggests the primacy and supremacy of Kemetic culture in relationship to other African cultures. Asante’s theory has had a transforming effect on the discipline of Black Studies. His theories have brought greater definition and new developments,

Mission Conscious  23

specifically a growth in areas of study about African peoples. Traditionally, Black Studies was tied to community activism, and there was an idealization of the ­activist-​­based scholar approach. Value was afforded to scholars who had close ties to the community. While the Department of African American Studies at Temple has ties to community organizations and activism, Asante’s emphasis on theoretical approaches has in some ways redefined the concept of an a­ctivist-​ ­based scholar. The scholar might be an activist because of the scholarship he or she advances rather than doing actual physical work in community organizations. In other words, Asante’s most prominent scholarship suggests that the work of the Afrocentric scholar is to elevate the consciousness of Black people about their identity and culture. Subsequently, there continues to be African American Studies and African Studies programs and scholarship based on varying critical perspectives. Some of the emerging fields include Kemetic Studies, African Studies, Diasporic Studies, Caribbean Studies, Latin American Studies, and Studies in Black Europe. Moreover, the older models of Black Studies tended to be ­community-​­based.

Criticism of Asante’s Afrocentricity One of the most prominent critiques of Afrocentricity is offered by historian Clarence Walker. In his book, We Can’t Go Home Again, Walker writes: Afrocentricity is a mythology that is racist, reactionary, and essentially therapeutic. It suggests that nothing important has happened in black history since the time of the pharaohs and thus trivializes the history of black Americans.21 The forcefulness of Walker’s critique is compelling, and he does make valid points about Afrocentricity. His main issue seems to be that of identity and simplistic approach toward identity he proport Asante takes. He asserts that Asante does not seem to recognize the multifaceted nature of the identities of African Americans and even Africans on the continent. Further, he claims that Asante does not seem to understand fully the concept of European identity.22 However, Walker’s assertions about African and European identities seem to ignore the very history and social conditions he claims Asante does not acknowledge.23 For example, his ideas about Whiteness seem to buy into a mythological conceptualization of Whiteness that fails to recognize the limits of Whiteness and the fantastic nature of how it exists in practice. Further, while Walker makes some valid points, his argument is severely undermined by his use of the term Negro. He claims to prefer Negro to African American.24 His use of the term Negro places him fundamentally at odds with Asante’s perspective on racial identity. Moreover, while Walker suggests that African Americans have a new identity separate from Africa and thus are “­Negro” or black, he fails to recognize in his preference the charged nature of the term Negro. In agreement with Asante, the

24  Rebecca S. Dixon

term Negro is indicative of a time period and an identity of racial inferiority. At best, it is indicative of an identity associated with oppression and struggle. By extension, the term Negro positions the identity of people of African descent with a history in the United States in an inferior position. The term is often used jokingly to refer to an African American with antiquated thinking. Further, when used in a contemporary context, it refers to Black people who think of themselves in denigrating and ­self-​­deprecating ways. One of Walker’s primary claims is that Afrocentricity is an essentialist theory. This is a claim made in general about the field of Black Studies. The claim of essentialism is not necessarily a negative assessment of the theory. The theory does seek to capture the essence of who African people are in a manner that is reasonable. Further, the field of Black Studies does seek to reduce the complexities of human behavior and production into terms that are reasonable and useful for study. Essentialist positions are often taken in studies of culture; in studies of oppressed people, there is often an objection to oversimplification of the group or attributing one experience to all of the oppressed group. However, the problem in Asante’s case is that there is too much limitation. Asante’s explanations of the Afrocentric theory invite the essentialist critique. Asante writes: Afrocentricity is a mode of thought and action in which the centrality of African interests, values, and perspectives predominate. In regard to theory, it is the placing of African people in the centered of any analysis of African phenomenon.25 He later writes, “­The Afrocentricist seeks to uncover and use codes, paradigms, symbols, motifs, myths, and circles of discussion that reinforce the centrality of African ideals and values as a valid frame of reference for acquiring and examining data.”26 However, Asante does not make clear which African values or interests. He suggests that those values are largely Kemetic or have some relationship to Ancient Egyptian culture, but the exact values and their African origin are not clearly spelled out.27 He further argues that “­Literary critics who attack Afrocentricity as essentialist have been giving essentialism a bad connotation.”28 Thus, he acknowledges the essentialist notions found in his theory. While he never explains this statement, the suggestion is that the reduction is purposeful for the benefit of study. Asante does not argue this point but does suggest that the way in which race, ethnicity, and identity are understood and discussed are essentialist, whether speaking about people of African descent or other groups of people. Further problematizing the claim of essentialism is Asante’s suggestion of the moral high ground that is achieved through the Afrocentric perspective. However, Asante does not make his point about Afrocentric theory and essentialism completely clear. He suggests that Afrocentricity is not essentialist. But then, there is nothing wrong with essentialism. Reducing a group to certain characteristics or qualities is considered to be essentialist and has the danger of excluding, categorizing, and stereotyping. However, essentialist views of culture

Mission Conscious  25

and ethnicity are universal and are used to promote pride, unity, and positive ­self-​­concept. The point is that conversations about essentialism should not be ignored but central to African American Studies, especially since part of the experiences of African people, notably contemporary Black students, involve stereotyping and racist impositions. While Asante does not make this argument, he suggests it. Surprising, this point about essentialism has not been fully addressed by Asante or other cultural studies scholars. The experiences of African peoples in the last 400 years have included several triumphs, revealing the resilience, creativity, and intellectual strength of people of African descent. Asante acknowledges the difficulties experienced by African people during this period of pain and loss and suggests Afrocentricity as a means of recovery of sorts. However, Asante’s notion of a return to wholeness and moral high ground is based on physic alienation and mental and emotional problems experienced by Africans who were enslaved and oppressed by Europeans. In other words, the notion is based on the realities of slavery, colonialization, and oppression that involved both physical and mental torture.29 Other scholars, including Woodson, Frantz Fanon, and Hare, have examined the psychological consequences of oppression and the damage to ­self-​­concept that has been inflicted on African peoples.30 While the issues of ­self-​­hatred, ­self-​­esteem, colonized mindset, slave mentality, and the ­so-​­called “­Oreo” mentality are real phenomena, they do not necessarily mean that African Americans or other African peoples subjected to oppression by Europeans are “­d amaged people.” In fact, educational, economic, health, social, and mental evidence would indicate that African Americans are not any more damaged than any other racial or ethnic group. Asante’s assertions seem to fail to acknowledge colonization or that a return to African traditional values may not be the best solution for a contemporary problem for African people. The central problem in the Afrocentric theory is the supposition that there is essentially something wrong with African Americans and other diasporic cultures. The person must return to African values to be made just, whole, or right. The suggestion is that having been exposed to Western cultures and socialized and educated to view European culture as superior, Diasporic Africans are psychologically damaged. It then follows that they can only be restored through exposure to the African way of life. This is an essentialist perspective that cannot be explained away by the strength found in unity. The idea that African Americans should hope to be something other than who they are is preposterous. This is especially so given that there are no perfect groups of people or identities. In fact, African Americans, as an example of a diasporic group, have demonstrated their resiliency, strength, and intellectualism. The founding of the field of Black Studies by them is a proof of this. Black Studies programs were founded to elevate Africans Americans, not further contribute to their denigration. This idea of the perfect African values and beliefs that can serve to restore African Americans suggests their denigration. It also suggests that there are Africans who are superior to other Africans.

26  Rebecca S. Dixon

Asante posits that “­Unless they are ­off-​­centered, ­m is-​­educated, ­de-​­centered, or culturally insane, most African people participate in the African cultural system, although it is modified according to specific histories and nations.”31 In other words, if one is of African descent, one must be located in African culture. This seems to be logical but is not entirely clear. This idea of location refers to cultural grounding and the sense of African identity. The idea of being culturally centered has the potential to bring structure and order to discussions about texts or cultural phenomena. The idea about location helps the reader, the student, the audience to appreciate the circumstances, values, and meaning of a text or cultural issue. Location suggests physical and geographical implications; however, it is not entirely clear whether one’s physical location is necessarily tied to mental location. While the idea of location can be useful, Asante’s statements suggest that it can be used to assess the “­Blackness” of an individual. This type of assessment is suggestive of a judgmental and narrow way of looking at people of African descent. The suggestion is that there is a right way and a wrong way to be African. Thus, this idea of location alludes to hierarchy of Blackness or Black identity. In other words, people who live according to certain African principles may be deemed located or morally upright, whereas other people who are deemed “­less African” may be dislocated and immoral. This may apply to cultural norms and behaviors. Asante explains, “­The foundation of all African speculation in religion, art, ethics, moral customs, and aesthetics are derived from systems of knowledge found in ancient Egypt.”32 This passage from Asante’s Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge is the basis for two aspects of Clarence Walker’s criticism. Walker suggests that the cultural perspective of Afrocentricity is stagnant and that the sense of identity is limited. Walker further argues that all African cultures do not derive from ancient Egypt. More so, the point is that a people and their culture do not have to be linked to ancient Egypt to be considered worthy. While the Afrocentricists are critical of European Studies’ veneration of Ancient Greece, they seem to want to offer the same system with respect to Egypt and African culture. Further, Walker argues that African Americans have formed different ways of looking at their identities that are divorced from African continental cultures. While Walker is correct, there are clearly cultural retentions from West Africa in African American culture and production. However, the implication of centering in Egypt is not clear, nor are other aspects of the concept of location. This clearly points to problems in the theory. The concept of location is not necessarily defined by Asante as having a link to geographical location but could be interpreted in this way. In other words, where people of African descent are geographically will be used to determine their psychological location and African centeredness. Moreover, the implication is that people born on the continent by virtue of their physical location are more African than people born in the diaspora. The idea that Africans born on the continent may be influenced by colonial practices, colonial education, and corrupt Western businesses does not seem to be part of this discussion. This idea of location and the judgment associated with it have the potential to undermine

Mission Conscious  27

the affirming nature of the field of Black Studies. It has the potential to again place African people on the periphery of their own educational experience. In other words, Black students will in some ways be in the same position they were in before Black Studies programs began. In response to the notion that he has a stagnant view of African culture and cultural identity, Asante writes, “­I have definite views on the history and culture of African people. This does not mean that I do not believe in change, modifications, influences, and so forth. African people have been impacted upon and impact other cultures.”33 However, the idea that African Studies must be tied to Africa or Ancient Egypt in order to be valid is a fundamental assumption of the Afrocentric theory. Dr. Gregory Carr, chair of the Department of ­A fro-​ ­A merican Studies at Howard, advances Asante’s point that African American Studies should rely on African traditions, specifically “­the traditions of classical and medieval Africa, ­for guidance in enacting positive social change for African descendants… A key mission of African American studies…should be to reconnect ‘­narratives of African identity to the contemporary era.”34 Again, this is a similar point espoused by Asante, but there is no recognition of the values and practices that might be derived from the experiences of people of African descent in the United States and other parts of the diaspora as having similar value. Moreover, like Asante, Carr does not explain what these African practices that should guide Black people are and how to distinguish which practices might be negative from those that will ensure positive direction. Furthermore, while Walker takes issue with the understanding of identity fundamental to Afrocentric theory, he fails to explore the question of relevance, one of the major problems with Black Studies programs that employ Afrocentric theory as their only approach.35 Afrocentricity has the potential to undermine the traditional mission of Black Studies, not because of its romantic notions about Egypt and Africa and not because of its essentialist nature, but because of the lack of engagement with current issues. Fundamental to the field of Black Studies is its relevance to the lives of people of African descent. Black Studies are an extension of ­long-​­standing intellectual traditions that are responsive to the needs, problems, and concerns of the Black community. Black Studies programs were founded, in part, to serve as a space for people of African descent to find their culture and experiences affirmed and to discuss what it means to be black. Practices that are medieval or ancient are not necessarily valuable, especially in a contemporary context. The lack of critical perspective and engagement of the current problems and issues facing people of African descent can threaten the viability of Africana Studies programs.

Conclusion Clarence Walker begins his critical assessment of Afrocentric Theory by stating that it is a type of therapy and therefore negative. If Afrocentricity is a type of therapy, it is not necessarily negative. While African peoples enjoy rich cultural

28  Rebecca S. Dixon

traditions and have been highly productive, the experiences under the oppression of slavery, colonialization, Jim Crow, apartheid, and other oppressive systems demand reflection and may require positive redirection. Afrocentricity, like other theories, has the potential to extend the critical discussions fundamental to the field of Black Studies. Afrocentricity offers opportunities for reflection and in many ways positive redirection. However, Afrocentricity, as Asante indicates, is a theory which is not perfect like all theories. Nevertheless, it does not have to be perfect to be useful and to facilitate meaningful discussion and critical engagement. This is what theory is supposed to do; that is, open up possibilities. It is not to be the end of a meaningful discussion, but the beginning.

Notes 1 Molefi K. Asante, The Afrocentric Idea (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1987), 6. 2 This issue has been prevalent in the field of Black Studies since its inception and continues to be a problem. See Mark Christian’s “­Black Studies in the 21st Century: Longevity Has Its Place,” Journal of Black Studies 36(­5), 2006: ­698–​­719. 3 Black Studies Departments tend to be small with less than half the faculty found in other departments. Sometimes, the faculty in Black Studies Programs and Departments are shared with other departments. This has long been the case despite the popularity of Black Studies courses. 4 Maulana Karenga, Introduction to Black Studies (­ L os Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 1993), 3. Also see Nathan Hare, “­Questions and Answers about Black Studies,” The Massachusetts Review 10(­4), 1969: ­727–​­36. 5 This perspective is shared by other scholars. See, for example, Ama Mazama, “­Graduate Studies Programs in African American Studies,” in Maulana Karenga and Molefi K. Asante (­eds.), The Handbook of Black Studies (­Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2006), ­119–​­29; Nick Aaron Ford, Black Studies: Threat or Challenge (­Port Washington, NY: Kennikat Press, 1973), 3. 6 Terry Kershaw, “­Toward a Black Studies Paradigm: An Assessment and Some Directions,” Journal of Black Studies 22(­4), 1992: ­477–​­93. 7 See Hare, “­Questions and Answers about Black Studies,” 727. 8 This idea is pronounced in Asante’s work, but is also evident in other scholars from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. For example, Feminist scholars also embraced these ideas about power and centering, placing women’s experiences and their perspectives as the central focus of their analyses; see for example, Bell Hooks, Feminist Theory from Margin to Center (­Boston: South end press, 1984), 1­ 7–​­21. Look also at Michel Foucault, “­The Subject and Power,” Critical Inquiry 8(­4), 1982: ­777–​­95. In terms of the rise of critical theory as a foundation for academic disciplines, see Barbara Christian, “­The Race for Theory,” Cultural Critique (­6), 1987: ­51–​­63 and Harold Aram Veeser, The Rebirth of American Literary Theory and Criticism: Scholars Discuss Intellectual Origins and Turning Points (­New York: Anthem Press, 2021), Introduction. 9 Molefi K. Asante, Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge (­Trenton, NJ: African World Press, 1990), 5. 10 Molefi K. Asante, The Afrocentric Idea, Revised and Expanded (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University, 1998). 2. 11 Asante, Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge, 8. 12 See William Edward Burghardt DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk (­New York: W.W. Norton, 1999), C ­ hapters  1 and 2. Also see Booker T. Washington, Up from Slavery (­New York: Signet, 2000), C ­ hapter  2; Marcus Garvey, “­A frica for Africans,”

Mission Conscious  29

in Henry Louis Gates, Jr. (­eds.), The Norton Anthology of African American Literature (­New York: W.W. Norton), 986; Carter G. Woodson, The Miseducation of the Negro (­Chicago, IL: R.R. Donnelley and Sons Co, 1990), ­Chapter 1. 13 Asante, The Afrocentric Idea, (­1998), ­191–​­92. 14 Woodson, The Miseducation of the Negro, ­Chapter 1. 15 Molefi K. Asante, Afrocentricity (­Trenton, NJ: African World Press, 1998), 7. 16 Asante, Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge, 132. 17 Ibid., 19. 18 Asante, Afrocentricity, 1. 19 Asante, Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge, 14. 20 Ibid., 14. 21 Clarence Walker, We Can’t Go Home again (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 3. 22 Ibid., 5. 23 Ibid., 88. 24 Ibid., xv. 25 Asante, Afrocentricity, 2. 26 Asante, Kemet, Afrocentricity, and Knowledge, 6. 27 Asante indicates that Egyptian culture is primary, but he does allude to other African cultures as offering some value. See his The Afrocentric Idea, 69 and 76; and Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge, 15, for examples. See also Maulana Karenga, Introduction to Black Studies (­L os Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 2010); and See C. Tsehloane Keto, Introduction to African Centered Perspective of History (­Trenton, NJ: Research Associates School Times, 1999). 28 Ibid., 4. 29 See Kenneth Stampp, The Peculiar Institution (­New York: Vintage, 1989), Chapter IV. 30 See Woodson, The Miseducation of the Negro; Franz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks (­New York: Grove Press, 2008); and Nobles, African Psychology. 31 Asante, Afrocentricity, 5. 32 Asante, Kemet, Afrocentricity, and Knowledge, 47. 33 Asante, Afrocentricity, 4. 34 See Marha Biondi, “­Controversial Blackness: The Historical Development & Future Trajectory of African American Studies,” Daedalus 140(­2), Spring 2011: ­226–​­37. 35 Walker, We Can’t Go Home again.

2 WHY AFRICOLOGY? A CRITICAL REVIEW OF DEBATES ABOUT HOW TO NAME THE DISCIPLINE Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

Introduction1 One of the liberal Arts areas of study or disciplines that became institutionalized within the United States’ higher educational system by ­m id-​­twentieth century is widely known as Black Studies. The first department of Black Studies was established at San Francisco State College in 1968. Since then, more than 300 centers, programs, and departments of Black Studies have emerged across U.S. universities. These include 18 universities that offer doctoral degrees in Black Studies. However, across U.S. colleges and universities, Black Studies goes by a variety of names, including Black American Studies, African American Studies (­A AS), Africana Studies, Pan African Studies, African World Studies, Global African Studies, African Diaspora Studies, and Africology. Even the 18 universities in the United States that currently offer doctorate degrees in Black Studies do not have a common name for those graduate degrees. What appears to drive these distinctive names is a combination of factors: the composite expertise of their faculty, their faculty’s areas of specialization, and the worldviews/­intellectual perspectives of the faculty that make up each unit. By worldview, I am referring to the question of whether the constituent faculty in a given setting manifests any or a combination of the following visions of our project: •

•

A domestic vision of Black Studies that sees it as focusing exclusively on the affairs of only United States’ African Americans who descended from the generation of enslaved Africans A diasporic vision of Black Studies that is inclusive of the affairs of all African descendants in the New ­World—​­that is, the ­A mericas—​­North America, South America, and the Caribbean

DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-4

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  31

•

A globalistic vision of Black S­ tudies—​­that is, a viewpoint that thinks in terms of an African ­world—​­a world encompassing ­A frican-​­origin communities that are scattered across the globe and the continent of Africa itself.

Even though across the United States, there is no common agreement among Black Studies scholars about unit nomenclatural choices, it would appear that a consensus has emerged around one factor, namely any Black Studies project that is conceptually divorced from Africa as a geographical and cultural starting base is a ­non-​­starter. As Molefi Asante once put it, African descendants in the New World are not like a rootless contraption that’s dangling in the air. An overwhelming number of scholarly studies of the cultural dispositions of African descendants in the New World demonstrate that to various regional degrees, they manifest retentions of African physical and cultural attributes, though not necessarily in their pristine forms. Neither does African culture exist today on the continent of Africa in a pristine form. This is perhaps why scholars painstakingly endeavor to distinguish the attributes of traditional African society from those of contemporary ­A frica—​­a contemporary Africa that has been shaped by both traditional Africa in the backdrop and exogenous influences from the West and the East, including exogenous religious, educational, political, economic, and judicial and social systems and ­norms—​­not unlike the situation in the African Diaspora, although diasporan cultural life has admittedly evolved and has been transformed in the context of cultural hegemony. The exogenous influences upon the life and cultures of African diasporic communities and the African continent itself have been made all the more complicated by ­present-​­day globalistic forces, such as the internet age and corporate globalization. The debate about what should be the appropriate name for our p­ roject—​­that is, our systematic inquiry into the life and cultures of peoples of the African ­world—​­goes back to the time period of the black power movement in the United ­States—​­a movement that I prefer to describe as a black empowerment movement. The black empowerment movement evolved from the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s. Whereas the central thrust of the antecedent civil rights movement was to persuade and compel the ­powers-­​­­that-​­be in the United States to put an end to the Jim Crow social system and practice of racial segregation and its discriminatory concomitants and usher in an era of desegregation and equal treatment under the law, the next phase, known as the black power movement, was one that was specifically geared toward empowering people of African descent in the socioeconomic and political arenas. Thus, it was the black power movement that sought equal voting rights, economic equity, and a new educational order. As a concept, the black power movement represented African American aspirations for black control of black political matters, black control of its economic life, and black control of its cultural life and cultural definitions. Against the backdrop of cultural hegemony, the concept of a black power movement represented aspirations for black ­self-​­definition, ­self-​­respect, and cultural ­pluralism—​­as opposed to a rigid ­melting-​­pot vision of America.

32  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

Cultural Pluralism Cultural pluralism, which can also be described as multiculturalism, advocates for a social order in which the constituent communities of the nation are allowed to ­co-​­exist on their own cultural terms, not on the exclusive terms of the majority culture, although cultural diffusion appears inescapable in a multicultural milieu. On the university campuses of the United States during the heyday of the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, visions of the black power movement were manifested most prominently through the activism of the black students’ movement. A notable act of ­self-​­definition that occurred on campus at this time was that the Negro Student Union renamed itself as the black student union, a gesture whose significance lies in how it symbolically reflected a liberated sense of self on the part of the emerging youth of the African American community. In the wake of demands for equal treatment under the law and grassroots pressures from the unfolding civil rights protests, in 1954, the Supreme Court of the United States issued its famous Brown versus Board of Education of Topeka decision which declared racial segregation in the school system as unconstitutional. Although the body politic in general was rather reluctant and slow in implementing the ruling of the Supreme ­Court—​­in fact, one should recall that busing, which in and of itself was controversial, was deployed to integrate reluctant school systems across the United ­States—​­the Brown judgment ultimately led to the opening of doors of previously a­ ll-​­white institutions to people of c­ olor—​ s­ tudents, faculty, and staff. As the newly arrived students enrolled and experienced existing courses for their university degrees, they began to sense an emptiness, a void in those courses on matters related to African diasporic life and cultures. That is to say that it was the perception of these students of color that the traditional disciplines, by and large, did not mirror or did not adequately mirror their understanding of the realities of the communities that they came from. It was also their perception that what they were learning in their coursework tended not to adequately reflect the aspirations of their parent communities for freedom from racial d­ iscrimination—​ a­ s manifested in the extant civil rights movement of the day. This was the backdrop for their consequent advocacy for a new center of k­ nowledge—​­one that would be ­inclusive—​­that is, one that would add to and enrich academia’s ­corpus-­​ of-​­ ­­ knowledge and thus help make academia reflective of the multiracial and multicultural nature of the U.S. society. Second, the students called for a relevant ­education—​­that is, educational content that relates to the needs and aspirations of the community. Third, the students asked for an epistemology that could imbue its students with community consciousness as opposed to what Maulana Karenga described as “­v ulgar careerism.”2 It’s important to remember that although this campus movement was led primarily by black students, its goals tended to receive support from other student groups on campus, including students from developing countries and even some white students. It was, of course, this movement that led ultimately to the creation of the first Black Studies department in the

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  33

United States at San Francisco State College in 1968 under the leadership of Nathan Hare.

Naming the New Field That the first unit of the US academy to be vested with an infrastructure and authority to provide and administer a Major in this area of academic inquiry was called Black Studies was reflective of the rationale behind the movement that helped to bring it ­about—​­that is, a desire to fill a vacuum about black life and culture in the learning scheme of things. As Asante recalls it: When we started the programs in Black Studies during the late 1960s, we were intent on showing the difference between White Studies and what we called “­a Black perspective.” Thus, we used the term Black Studies to represent our ideological and philosophical assertion that White Americans had promoted a White academy and a White knowledge.3

Issues to Consider That observation from Asante serves as a transitional moment for capturing other key points and issues that have been raised concerning the naming of the discipline. In her article, “­Naming and Defining: a Critical Link,” Ama Mazama contends that a ­subject-​­matter approach to the definition of Black Studies is what has led to a proliferation of different names for the discipline. This s­ ubject-​­matter approach has also had a consequence of making the discipline permeable or much more vulnerable to permeation because Black Studies is not the only social scientific or humanities area of the academy that claims Africans and descendants of Africa as their subjects or constituent subjects of inquiry. As Mazama reminds us, “­A nthropology does claim African people as its subject, as does … psychology, literature, women studies, social work, sociology, philosophy, and so on.”4 Explaining further, Mazama says: [The] unfinished [naming] process reflects a deeper and equally unsettled issue: that is of s­elf-​­definition. The prediction is that as long as Black Studies does not find a place where to stand firmly, new names will keep creeping up. Africana Studies is the latest one among them, but if the analysis made here is correct, it cannot and will not be the last one. The reason for this is that the name Africana Studies belongs to the same paradigm as all the other terms used or created before, with the exception of one (­Africology). Central to that paradigm is a definition of Black Studies by subject matter, in this case, `Africana People.’ Yet, and this is another major contention of this article, it is precisely this paradigm that is responsible for the confusion that still plagues Black Studies, as reflected in the multiplicity of labels [associated with the discipline].5

34  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

The ­subject-​­matter approach has compounded yet another challenge that faces the discipline, namely what Mazama calls “­a newcomer’s dilemma,”6 or two contradictory requirements that Black Studies has had to deal with: differentiation and conformity. While “­d ifferentiation implies the identification and demarcation of a discipline’s space in the academic world, a process that equates with ‘­boundary work,’” 7 conformity requires Black Studies to follow “­acceptable models or standards of scientific practice.”8 Boundaries may vary according to type or according to their degrees of permeability, as Mazama explains further: Impermeable boundaries are in general a concomitant of tightly knit, convergent disciplinary communities and an indicator of the stability and coherence of the intellectual fields they inhabit. Permeable boundaries are associated with loosely knit, divergent academic groups and signal a more fragmented, less stable and comparatively o ­pen-​­ ended epistemological 9 structure. Quite logically, Mazama is quick to remind us that “­d isciplines with permeable boundaries are often encroached upon by other disciplines, which claim parts, if not all, of its intellectual territory.”10 However, as would be expected, the goal of impermeability may prove daunting, given that “­the notion of discipline itself is ‘­not a neat category’”11 and is subject to multiple and even contrasting definitions. What then is a safe path to thread? Mazama answers this question by falling back on a vision advanced by Thompson Klein, namely that in general, disciplinary boundaries “­are determined more by method, theory, and conceptual framework than by subject matter.”12 In this context, it’s argued, Black Studies faces an unfortunate situation because subject matter has dominated the various ways by which its practitioners have defined the discipline. One result of this situation is Black Studies’ difficulty across many a campus with establishing, protecting, and nurturing its own instructional areas of jurisdiction. Worsening the permeability of the discipline is a tendency on the part of some of its practitioners to use their primary fields of education as their preferred modes of identifying themselves. Thus, as Mazama puts it, “­you have Black Studies scholars who  … commonly identify themselves as ‘­economist,’ ‘­sociologists,’ ‘­linguists,’ ‘­psychologists,’ and so on.”13 This tendency, along with previously stated factors, places Black Studies “… under [a] continuous threat of encroachment by other disciplines, while it continues, in many cases and after several decades, to function as an ‘­ethnic’ adjunct to what Mazama refers to as ‘­European disciplines.’”14 “­Fights with other disciplines over the ‘­r ight’ to teach courses even on African people are not unheard of.”15 Although Mazama has articulated a compelling criticism of the s­ ubject-​­matter approach to disciplinary definitions, as I have demonstrated in the foregoing passage, I do, however, detect a degree of unrealism in her questioning of Black

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  35

Studies’ striving, within academe in general, to conform with prevailing standards and structures of the U.S. higher educational system. Given that Black Studies is not an entity or a form of education that’s independent of or exists outside the prevailing higher educational system of the United States, it’s unrealistic and perhaps ­counter-​­productive to expect it not to be aligned with the structures and standards that underlie the normative system of university education in the society that it’s meant to serve. In fact, to not do so is to play into the hands of cynics and critics of Black Studies who would like to demean it as a form of ethnic ­cheer-​­leading that lacks academic merit. While delineating its own distinctive epistemic and methodological frameworks, Black Studies ought to function and must function as a part of the university system. In my view, construction, delineation of and adherence to a distinctive philosophical orientation to data within Black Studies need not be seen as being at odds or incompatible with prevailing standards and structures of research and teaching under the prevailing university system of learning. For instance, p­ rogram-​­level assessment of student learning has emerged as a required process in U.S. higher education. Black Studies cannot exclude itself from it and similar mandates that are creeping up in higher education without risking and courting ­self-​­immolation.

Other Viewpoints One other instructive contribution to this naming debate comes from Maulana Karenga. In his “­Names and Notions of Black Studies: Issues of Roots, Range, and Relevance,” Karenga avers that differences in [adopted] names for the discipline [at various locations] are reflective of diverse conceptions of “­the roots, range and relevance of the discipline.”16 By roots, Karenga refers to “­the conception of the primary rootedness of the discipline in the African American initiative and experience and the Black Freedom Movement and its emancipator thrust.”17 Range “­involves varied positions on the reach and inclusiveness of the discipline in terms of African peoples and its ­self-​­conception as a p­ an-​­African project.”18 And relevance stands for: … questions [about] the intellectual value and viability of the African American initiative and experience as a ­self-​­standing discipline in the academy, as distinct from a dependent program or one area of emphasis within a regional study of African ­peoples—​­that is, Diasporan or Atlantic ­Studies—​ a­ nd its marketability as an area of competence.19 Tracing the origins of two prominent names of the discipline, namely Black Studies and Africana Studies, Karenga comes down in favor of Africana Studies. Here is how he supports that stand: As early as 1909, W.E. B. Du Bois  …had put forth the term Africana as an inclusive category for the study of African peoples. It was used in the

36  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

title of a proposed encyclopedia dedicated to the discussion of the ‘­chief points of the history and conditions of the [Black] race.’ Both its subjects of study and the contributors to the work included the three main groupings of African peoples who [currently] define the similar inclusive range for the discipline’s intellectual initiatives, research, study, and teaching: the ‘­Negro American, African and West Indian.’ These, of course, translate today as the African American, the Continental African, and the Caribbean African.20 Karenga also backs his choice of Africana Studies with a recap of conceptions of the term developed by James Turner to whom he credited the first use of “­A fricana Studies” to characterize a Black Studies ­project—​­in this case, the Africana Studies and Research Center at Cornell University. Karenga notes that “… Turner reaffirms the central focus of Africana as African American Studies with due attention to the other areas in the trilateral relationship of intellectual and cultural commitment among African people of African America, Africa, and the Caribbean.”21 Karenga also acknowledges the work of Winston Van Horne in initiating and advancing the term “­A fricology” as a more appropriate name for the discipline and in “­presiding over the renaming of his department at the University of ­Wisconsin-​­Milwaukee, the Department of Africology in 1994,”22 but he does not necessarily oppose or reject Africology as a nomenclatural identity for the discipline. In fact, in this article, Karenga not only reviews Asante’s contributions to the advancement of the d­ iscipline—​­such as his founding of the first PhD in the field at Temple University and his creation of a distinguishing epistemic framework of Afrocentricity—​­he also recognizes Asante’s embrace of Van Horne’s “­A fricology” as a most appropriate name for the discipline. Interestingly, Karenga does not state if he disagrees with Asante in that regard. Asante’s acceptance of Van Horne’s “­A fricology” represents an evolution in his own thinking on this subject, for through Afrocentricity (­1988), his own initial name for the discipline was “­A frology,” which he characterizes as “­not merely the study of Black people, but an approach, a methodological and functional perspective.”23 In his subsequent work Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge (­1988), Asante replaces “­A frology” with “­A fricalogy,” calling it “… the Afrocentric study of phenomena, events, ideas and personalities related to Africa.”24 Asante’s Africalogy is ­pan-​­Africanist in scope, encompassing Africa, the Americas, the Caribbean, and various regions of Asia and the Pacific.25 Asante explains his adoption of Africology in his own journal article, “­A fricology and the Puzzle of Nomenclature”: It is based on sound intellectual principles and rational grounds. For example, it is broadly the ‘­study of Africa.’ There are those who might argue that it is a word with a Greek etymology, but so are many of the words that we use in the English language. Africology is no more ‘­foreign to the

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  37

Academy than ‘­A fricana’ or ‘­­Pan-​­A frican.’ Although ­Pan-​­A frican might have a Latin etymology in part, it is still considered to be a useful term. To a large degree, a word’s value is determined by the people who participate in operationalizing it. Africology is the best word to describe an Afrocentric study of African phenomena transgenerationally and transcontinentally. While the materials, historical and cultural, out of which our consciousness develops are plentiful, it seems to me that in Africology, we have a definite connection between what we do and who we are as scholars. The production of knowledge by Africologists and the validation of that knowledge by other scholars in the discipline are at the core of our academic identity.26 No doubt, Asante has forcefully embraced Africology as a correct name for the discipline. There is a relatively rich documentation of Winston Van Horne’s significant elevation of the term Africology. This ranged from his relevant works and academic programmatic developments in the 1990s through the first decade of the ­twenty-​­first century (­including his department’s name change to “­A fricology” in 1994 and the creation of a doctoral program in Africology at the University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee in 2010).27 However, it is important to recall that the first recorded academic usage of “­A fricology” occurred in the form of a book publication by E. Uzong in 1969, Africology. The Union Academic Council Series, African Studies Volume 1. A concise description of the book portrays it as “[an] introduction to Africology designed for the education of Africans at a time when few textbooks were available. [It is] the study of African cultural and social changes [, including] African peoples, history of hunting and agriculture, religions, law, culture, art [and] languages.”28 In her “­Defining Ourselves: Name Calling in Black Studies,” Patricia R ­ eid-​ ­Merritt joins the debate with a ­thought-​­provoking insight on why Africology may not be acceptable to some segments of the intellectual community of Black Studies scholars. R ­ eid-​­Merritt writes that among reasons [that] are many, “… opposition to Asante and other Afrocentric theorists, amid fears that their approach to the study of African people would dominate the discipline, was central to blocking this endeavor.”29 Noted scholars, including Henry Louis Gates, Diane Ravitch, Manning Marable, and others, had been critical of the Afrocentric approach. Instead of Africology or Black Studies, ­Reid-​­Merritt prefers the term Africana Studies. She explains it this way: We are Africana Culturalists, steeped in the knowledge of our people, appreciative of our unique heritage and the values that we share, forever cognizant of the needs and desires of our community, and willing to use ourselves as instruments of struggle, freedom, and liberation in our chosen fields of professional endeavors. Africana Studies serves as our foundation.

38  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

For it is the Africana Studies enterprise, as we have come to define and know it, that is fundamentally about the history, culture, and continuation of a people.30 Be that as it may, in expressing a preference for Africana ­Studies—​­as documented in the preceding p­ assages—​­neither Karenga nor ­Reid-​­Merritt addressed certain problematic histories associated with the term Africana. Itibari M. Zulu, editor of the Journal of ­Pan-​­African Studies, highlights such problematic histories in his “­A fricana Studies: Post Black Studies Vagrancy in Academe,” an essay that is highly critical of the “­the now popular” adoption of “­A fricana Studies” as a name for the discipline. This article identifies and discusses three main grounds for rejecting “­A fricana” as a suitable disciplinary nomenclature. First, Editor Zulu contends that: ‘­A fricana’ is a word created to describe a list of books or other materials related to Southern Africa … as early as 1908 … and as early as 1882 when the blood thirsty and cruel Reverend Duff Macdonald [he ruled with despotic cruelty, flogging and killing in Malawi according to Philip Briggs] of the Church of Scotland Mission wrote ‘­A fricana: Or the Heart of Heathen Africa,’ which was published in 1923.31 Zulu’s second basis for rejecting Africana Studies as a nomenclatural alternative is that “­the term has its roots in a racist past, particularly apartheid South Africa, although most definitions of the word are linked to books, documents or the like relating to objects from or connected with Africa…”32 In articulating his third ground for not accepting Africana Studies as an appropriate name for studies of the African world, Zulu rhetorically asks why “­there are no departments of ‘­A fricana Studies’ at Temple University, Harvard University, Ohio State University, Northwestern University, the University of California at Berkeley or at other institutions of higher education in the U.S.?”33 Answering that question, Zulu opines that these aforementioned institutions “­realized that the now ­in-​ v­ ogue Africana is a vociferous [concept] without prominence” (­­p. 3).

In Retrospect As demonstrated in the foregoing discussions, the debate about how to appropriately name what we do has been bubbling within the last fi ­ fty-​­four years of the establishment of the first Black Studies Department at San Francisco State University in 1968, during which other universities in the United States planned either by their own volition or through grassroots pressures or a combination of both factors and instituted their own programs. Such has been the unrelenting nature of this debate that the 2006 edition of the annual conference of the U.S.-​ b­ ased National Council for Black Studies (­NCBS) was devoted to it.

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  39

In retrospect, given the nature of that time period, the first generation of Black Studies was driven primarily by a desire for a “­black” niche in the academy, markedly different from what the pioneers and early advocates perceived as a predominantly whitish academy within the United States’ higher educational scheme of things. That is, what apparently mattered most to their creators was primarily to put in place a set of courses about the black experience where none really existed. Given the cultural hegemonic resistance to the notion of having a distinct space for Black Studies which tended to confront the first generation of Black Studies, it does not ­appear—​­and the literature on this subject does not demonstrate measurably, that nomenclatural questions were accorded significant attention by the founders of the ­fi rst-​­generation Black Studies. However, as more and more Black Studies departments and programs emerged and they sought to move beyond mere ­inter-​­departmental scheduling and offering of undergraduate courses toward both autonomy and programming for graduate education, new and complex questions arose. One of those complex questions is this. Instead of creating autonomous departments, why not have the traditional disciplines develop courses on the black experience that fall within their subject areas? Such questions often implicitly ignore the fact that, by and large, traditional disciplines were the comfortable homes of scholars who had vehemently questioned both the historicity of African antiquity or African history and the practical usefulness of African cultural values or the African ways of doing and thinking. After all, from the standpoint of the hegemonists, were African cultural values, African ways of doing and thinking not supposed to represent mere pathological phenomena invariably requiring curatives from the real model of humanity, that is, all that flows from the hegemonic ­Europe-​­centered orientation to life on earth? Such vehement questioning of the historicity of the African past primarily prompted corrective and emancipatory actions, such as Carter G. Woodson’s proclamation of a “­Negro History Week” in 1926, a history week that evolved to become today’s black history month which is contemporaneously observed every February in the United States.

Antagonism within Academia As its history demonstrates, Black Studies became necessary because the epistemological framework of the traditional disciplines was and still tends to be antagonistic to an emancipatory Black Studies project. This, therefore, raises the following question: can this same hegemonistic framework provide sustenance and intellectual nourishment for that emancipatory project? That philosophical perspective matters in the selection, development, and delivery of coursework is hardly in dispute. Even while committed to ­objectivity—​­that is, an honest documentation and rendering of ­facts—​­perspective affects research. The product of research often involves interpretation which tends to be influenced almost subconsciously by the worldview and philosophical orientation of the researcher.

40  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

Marketability Explaining his factor of “­relevance” in his own contribution to this debate about naming the discipline, Karenga calls attention to what he correctly posed as “­the continuing viability of the discipline as a marketable area of competence, if it is mainly or solely African American.”34 In effect, his is a point that has also been a concern of mine for some time, namely that one of the instructional, research, and service realities of departments that identify themselves as “­A frican American Studies” is that they tend to face a perception gap between what the insiders know to be their scope of operation and what outsiders (­particularly students, other faculty, and administrators) tend to perceive them to be doing even though, in identifiable cases, their curricular maps tend to be broader than the affairs of the community of African descents located within the United States. While I am of the conviction that the particularity of the African American experience in the United States and other regions of the ­A mericas—​­its triumphs, trials, and ­tribulations—​­certainly provides pedagogical models for lessons in how the ideology of race shapes the human experience, for lessons in human resilience, for lessons in the ability of the human spirit to overcome and transcend adversity, for lessons in how human societies can forge and manage viable ­co-​­existence in the midst of diversity, and for lessons on how n ­ on-​­violent mass protest can expand the democratic space and accord a practical expression to otherwise abstract concepts of freedom and liberty, I am also a proponent of an expansive vision of Black Studies that conceptualizes it in global terms for historical and practical reasons. My preferred name for this project is Africology, which I define as an ­African-​ c­entered, structured, and critical exploration, analysis and synthesis of the historical evolution, and contemporary nature of the global black experience. The global black experience embraces past and current developments and transformations in the life and cultures of African peoples in the diaspora (­i.e., diasporic Africans such as African Americans, Caribbean Africans, Canadian Africans, and European Africans) and on the Continent (­i.e., continental Africans). It is a multilayered investigative, analytical, and synthetical project that focuses on the African world; the African world consists of the continent of Africa and its diaspora, while the African Diaspora is constituted by the ­A frican-​­origin communities located outside the African continent.35 In a 2013 ­w rite-​­up, James Stewart calls attention to a set of challenges that he believes has hamstrung attempts to transform Black Studies into a f­ull-​­scale African World’s Studies project. Here is how he puts it: There are at least four hurdles that must be overcome in order to advance this project. First, there is an ongoing need to confront the intellectual hegemony exercised by the African Studies establishment. Second, greater epistemological and ontological clarity must be achieved regarding ­m acro-​ ­ level (­ continental and regional) and m ­ icro-​­ level (­ ethnic and national) cultural and geographical constructs. Even given progress on these first

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  41

two challenges, the problem remains of how to design an “­A frican World Studies” curriculum that can be delivered effectively within the confines of the structural limitations posed by the credit limits associated with majors,  the length of terms/­semesters, and hours of class contact. Finally, given the social responsibility mandate of Africana Studies it is imperative to consider what types of political advocacy are likely to be most effective in supporting African liberation and development and develop strategies to coordinate such advocacy with that focused on Diasporan populations.36 Before I comment on Stewarts’ concerns, let me state for now that I envision Africology as a project that will not limit itself to subjects of inquiry typically located within the humanities and social science areas. For instance, what could be a logical objection to extending Africology to a course sequence that investigates the evolution of science and technology across regions of the African world? Global warming, global trade, global pandemics, and terrorism from both private entities and governments do carry consequences for the lives and fortunes of people located in regions of the African world and thus are Africological subjects of inquiry.

Africology and African American Studies at Eastern Michigan University African American Studies at Eastern Michigan University (­EMU) has had a ­47-­​ ­­year-​­old history, having begun in 1975 as an A ­ fro-​­American Studies program with a directorship that reported directly to the Dean of the college of Arts and Sciences.37 In 1990, it was upgraded to a department of African American Studies that offers a bachelor’s degree in African American Studies, led by a department head (­instead of a “­d irector”) who still reports directly to the Dean.38 Led by this writer, in 2013, this AAS degree program was ­re-​­structured, effective winter 2013, along with a renaming of the unit as a department of Africology and African American Studies. At the present time, the department offers a Master of Arts in Africology and African American Studies (­A AAS), a major, a minor, and a graduate certificate in Africology and African American Studies, along with an undergraduate certificate in African Studies. One of our current programmatic objectives is the establishment of a Minor or a Certificate in Caribbean African Studies. The aforementioned ­re-​­structuring and renaming followed a process of ­self-​ ­examination on the part of our department whose outcome convinced us that, given the direction of academic affairs in the United States in which graduation rates and student credit hours have become paramount in resource allocation and even r­ e-​­distribution, we not only needed to revamp our undergraduate degree program in order to broaden its a­ ppeal—​­intellectually and c­ areer-­​­­wise—​ a­ nd bring more students into our fold, we also found it necessary to change the name of the department from the “­Department of African American Studies”

42  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

to the “­Department of Africology and African American Studies.” In doing so in 2013, our department at EMU emerged, as of that time, as the second unit of its kind in the nation to officially associate itself with the term Africology as a way of identifying and presenting itself to the world. The first sister department to do so, as earlier noted, is the Department of Africology at the University of Wisconsin in Milwaukee which, before 1994, was known as the Department of ­A fro-​­American Studies. It currently offers a PhD program in Africology. Well, in 2016, the ­PhD-​­granting Department of African American Studies at Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, followed our example by adopting a new name as “­Department of Africology and African American Studies.” Interestingly, Temple University is the institution that initiated ­doctoral-​­level studies in Black Studies in 1988. Overall, today 18 universities in the United States offer PhD programs in Black Studies. The choice of name at Eastern Michigan University on the surface seemed like a dual i­dentity—​­that is, “­A fricology and African American Studies.” To an extent, this d­ ual-​­construct represents a compromise between one group of faculty which favored “­A fricology” and a second group that would rather retain the ­status-​­quo. In any case, take notice that Africology is the prefix in that ­dual-​­name construct because it is strategically situated and serves as the umbrella n ­ ame—​­an ­a ll-​­encompassing name under which “­A frican American Studies” is subsumed as a component academic program area. Besides the fact that our undergraduate degree program in Africology and African American Studies incorporates an array of courses that focuses on the African continent, we also currently offer a ­stand-​­a lone undergraduate certificate in African ­Studies—​­yet another ­program-​ l­evel component aspect of Africology. Furthermore, Africology signals that the department is headed in an expansive direction that incorporates a vision of a future distinct program on Caribbean and South American African Studies, and Canadian African Studies if resources permit. I am of a conviction that viewing and setting up Africology as an umbrella curricular category lays a conceptual foundation and framework for consolidating, reclaiming, or establishing its constituent academic program areas, such as African American Studies, African Studies, Caribbean African Studies, European African Studies, and Black Women Studies. Students can major or minor in any of the preceding Africological constituent areas of study, thus potentially solving a practical instructional problem that Stewart identified when I quoted him earlier on, namely the challenge of designing an “… ‘­A frican World Studies’ curriculum that can be delivered effectively within the confines of the structural limitations posed by the credit limits associated with majors.”39

Conclusion Africology, as a nomenclatural alternative, exudes a more inclusive, institutional, and aesthetic appeal, and thus seems much more marketable and much more capable of debunking an erroneous notion that African American Studies exists for

A Critical Review of Debates about How to Name the Discipline  43

the consumption of only black students. Be that as it may, an instructive point that emerged during EMU’s aforementioned departmental retreat and deliberation on a name change, is that the term “­A frican American Studies (­A AS)” may carry a greater historical resonance with some members of our constituencies or stakeholders not only inside the university community but also outside of it. Hence, our decision to keep “­­African-​­American Studies” alive as a constituent but derivative part of our new name as the Department of Africology and African American Studies.

Notes 1 This is an updated version of an article previously published by this same author in a 2014 edition of The Journal of ­Pan-​­African Studies. 2 Maulana Karenga, Introduction to Black Studies (­ L os Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 2010), 19. 3 Molefi Asante, “­A fricology and the Puzzle of Nomenclature,” Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: 15. 4 Ama Mazama, “­Naming and Defining: A Critical Link,” Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: 68. 5 Ibid., 67. 6 Ibid. 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid., 71. 9 Ibid., 67. 10 Ibid. 11 Ibid. 12 Ibid., 69. 13 Ibid., 70. 14 Ibid. 15 Ibid. 16 Maulana Karenga, “­Names and Notions of Black Studies: Issues of Roots, Range, and Relevance,” Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: 41. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid. 20 Ibid., 46. 21 Ibid., 48. 22 Ibid., 52. 23 Molefi Asante, Afrocentricity (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1988), 13. 24 Ibid. 25 Asante, Afrocentricity, 15. Ibid., 15. 26 Asante, “­A fricology and the Puzzle,” 14. 2 7 For additional information on the life of Winston Van Horne (­­ 1944–​­ 2013) and his contributions to the discipline, see http://­w ww4.uwm.edu/­letsci/­a fricology/­ vanhorne.cfm. 28 E. Uzong, Africology. The Union Academic Council Series, African Studies Volume 1 (­L ondon: The Union Academic Council for African Studies, 1969). 29 Patricia ­Reid-​­Merritt, “­Defining Ourselves: Name Calling in Black Studies,” Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: 84. 30 Ibid., 88. 31 Itibari Zulu, “­A fricana Studies: Post Black Studies Vagrancy in Academe,” The Journal of ­Pan-​­African Studies 5(­7 ), 2012: 3. 32 Ibid.

44  Victor Oguejiofor Okafor

3 3 Ibid. 34 Karenga, “­Names and Notions,” 43. 35 Victor Okafor, Towards an Understanding of Africology (­Dubuque, IA: Kendall/­Hunt, 2013), 86. 36 James Stewart, “­Foreword,” in Victor Okafor (­ed.), Africana Studies Today: Essays on Scholarship and Pedagogy (­New York: The Edwin Mellen Press), i. 37 Ronald Woods, History of EMU’s African American Studies Department (­Ypsilanti: Department of Africology and African American Studies, Eastern Michigan University, 2012). 38 Ronald C. Woods was the founding head of the department of African American Studies at Eastern Michigan University. He continues to serve as a full professor of African American Studies in the now department of Africology and African American Studies. 39 Stewart, “­Foreword,” i.

3 A CENTURY OF ­AFRICA-​­CENTERED PROGRAMS ON BLACK CAMPUSES Creating a Multimodal Collaborative Africana Studies Digital Project at HBCUs Andrea Ringer, Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat and A. Hannibal Leach

Introduction Africana Studies units were created on American university campuses beginning in the late 1960s. Normative histories often prioritize the establishment of Africana Studies units at San Francisco State College (­SFSC; now University) and Cornell University as the most visible examples of the period. Both predominately white universities (­PWIs), histories about Africana Studies at these institutions only tell part of the larger historical narrative in which the discipline emerged. While the majority of Africana Studies units, including d­ egree-​­granting departments, programs, centers and institutes, are attached to PWI’s, these institutions also receive large amounts of funding in comparison to historically Black colleges and universities (­H BCUs). Despite these circumstances, HBCUs were unquestionably integral to the development of the discipline. Africana Studies at Tennessee State University (­TSU) and Fisk University, both in Nashville, Tennessee, have important origin stories. At TSU, student activists called for the creation of a freestanding department during the 1960s as well, but the department did not come into fruition until t­ wenty-​­five years later. With its creation, however, remarkably it was one of the first and only departments in the Southeast. In February 2020, several TSU faculty, administrators, alumni and students held an anniversary to celebrate over t­wenty-​­five years of Africana Studies at TSU, where founding faculty and alumni were honored and current students listened to the role the discipline has played within Africana1 liberation efforts in Nashville and within the larger American and international contexts. Fisk University, the first institution of higher education in the city of Nashville, began to offer the minor degree in African American Studies under the direction of Lean’tin Bracks in 2016. Its roots, however, are linked to the early ­twentieth-​­century DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-5

46  Andrea Ringer et al.

intellectual work of Fisk’s faculty in African Studies and in social and behavioral sciences. Even though the histories of TSU and Fisk’s units are just two examples of HBCUs contributions to the discipline, there is only a small amount of research focused on this radical history. The purpose of this chapter is to document this ­lesser-​­known history. In celebration of Africana Studies Program’s ­twenty-​­fifth year at TSU and to honor the elders at both institutions who struggled to create and maintain these units under diverse and changing financial and political climates, the purpose of this chapter is to also introduce readers to the process of creating a digital archive. The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville will be an open access platform for community use as well as a resource for researchers interested in the histories of HBCUs and Africana Studies. Placing the development of the discipline at both institutions within the larger history of Africana studies is important to understand the interconnected ideas of early Africana Studies’ architects. The first half of the chapter will introduce readers to the discipline of Africana Studies and the role HBCU students, faculty and administration played in conceptualizing the purpose and function of the discipline. In doing so, it provides a brief historical background of the political and intellectual origins of Africana Studies at Tennessee State and Fisk. The final portion of the chapter introduces readers to the emerging field of digital history and humanities and the significance of digital archiving in Africana Studies. The chapter closes with a description and purpose of The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville and the projects possibilities for community and researchers interested in this history. It is to the development of Africana Studies that we shall now turn.

Introduction to the Development of Africana Studies: African and American Contexts In a general sense, one can argue that Africana Studies (­and its variations as Black Studies, Africology, African American Studies, P ­ an-​­African Studies and African Diaspora Studies) as an academic discipline emerges within the African experience, predating its manifestation within the American academy during the late 1960s. Scholarship on the origin of the discipline places its source within the practical objectives of the sesh within Nile Valley (­Egypt) communities during the Old Kingdom, well before 2600 BCE.2 Attaining the highest level of training within the Kemetic educational system, the sesh amassed knowledge about the human condition in relationship to the cosmos and nature for the purpose of bringing about balance and right action, not only within oneself, but within one’s community.3 According to Daudi Ajani Ya Azibo, this functional approach to acquiring and producing knowledge among the Nile Valley sesh speaks to the earliest evidence of an Africana Studies methodology or philosophical assumptions. For Linda James Myers, Maulana Karenga, Molefi Kete Asante, Karanja Keita Carroll and many other Africana Studies intellectual workers, the origin of

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  47

the discipline of Africana Studies must be situated within this ancient and traditional African world historical backdrop and within the history and purpose of intellectual work within the long arc of the struggle(­s) for liberation throughout the African world. For many scholars, an A ­ frican-​­centered approach to knowledge dates to this ancient period. It is on the campuses of HBCUs that Africana thinkers would first shape what would become the discipline of Africana Studies. The contemporary discipline, in most institutions, regardless of the name used for the discipline, include African subject matter within the curriculum and house faculty who conduct research in a variety of topics related to ancient, traditional and contemporary homeland and diasporan African experiences. Because of this fact, scholars argue that another precursor to the current discipline of Africana Studies is the early and ­m id-­​­­twentieth-​­century development of African Studies at HBCUs. While many scholars locate the rise of African Studies as a field within the Western academy under anthropologists Melville J. Herskovits at Northwestern University in Chicago, it was in fact the academic work of sociologist Charles S. Johnson of Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee, anthropologist Leo Williams Hansberry of Howard University and Horace Man Bond, Lincoln University’s president between ­1945–​­1957, that initiated the field of African Studies at HBCUs.4 As early as 1922, during the height of European colonial occupation of African land and resources, Leo William Hansberry taught courses in African civilizations at Howard University, with the objective of teaching his students about African ingenuity that predated the rise of Europe. In doing so, Africana students at Howard were able to place their ancestry within this tradition, which challenged the ways in which white supremacy negated the humanity of African and African diaspora communities. At Lincoln in 1950, Bond established the Institute for the Study of African Affairs through which Lincoln faculty taught courses in African history and recruited African students like future first president of Ghana, Kwame Nkrumah, and future first president of Nigeria, Nnamdi Azikiwe. For Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, these initiatives were the ideological underpinnings of what would become the objectives of Africana Studies, that is, to reclaim a relationship between continental African culture(­s) and people and the African diaspora for the purpose of improving the life chances of all Africana peoples living under white supremacy.5 It is important to note here that because of the lack of continued funding, both Lincoln and Fisk ended their African Studies programs. It is within this HBCU educational environment that the study of Africana people within the American context was also a priority for Africana scholars. It has been well documented that HBCUs housed the first scholars interested in researching and documenting the lived experiences of Africana people in America as the precursor to the development of the discipline of Africana Studies. First, Nathaniel Norment Jr. suggests that Howard University Professor and Minister Alexander Crummell’s American Negro Academy was an institutional foundation for what would evolve into the formal discipline.6 Organized in 1897 as a

48  Andrea Ringer et al.

series of conferences, the purpose of the Academy was for scholars and educators to document and discuss the pressing issues facing Africana folks living in ­post-​ R ­ econstruction America. ­Pan-​­Africanists Edward Blyden, Henry Garnet and W.E.B. DuBois were just a few who were affiliated with Academy. Second, Talmadge Anderson and James Stewart argue that the work of W.E.B DuBois is an indispensable contribution, not only to the field of African American sociology, but to what would become the objectives of Africana Studies’ knowledge production.7 Director of sociology at Atlanta University (­now Clark Atlanta) in Georgia, DuBois began Atlanta University Studies as a research institute through which he and several scholars participated in community engaged scholarship with the goal of helping to transform the life chances of Africana folks living under Jim Crow segregation. It is also important to note that while the first sociological study of Africans living under American apartheid, The Philadelphia Negro was published in 1899, two years after DuBois’ arrival at Atlanta University. DuBois’ writings in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People’s The Crisis and his 1915 The Negro discussed African history, culture and politics. Along with his involvement in the P ­ an-​­African Congresses held during the first half of the twentieth century, DuBois documented the humanity of African people and the problem of colonial rule in Africa, and therefore helped to shape a ­pan-​­African identity for Africans in the diaspora. He furthermore was instrumental in encouraging a collective movement toward the liberation of the African world from white supremacy. Third, Pero G. Dagbovie claims Carter G. Woodson set the objectives for what would become Africana Studies.8 Founding the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History (­now the Association for the Study of African American Life and History) in 1915, Woodson’s goal was for scholarship on Africa and the diaspora to be reparative. That is, scholarship, like his 1933 The ­Mis-​­Education of the Negro, should reclaim and reconstruct what it meant for African folks in the diaspora to be African and human in a world where racist ideas claimed that Africans had neither a past nor a future that was not facilitated by the wisdom and industriousness of Europe and the West. Although only serving as a dean and faculty at Howard University for a few years in the early 1920s, Woodson’s life’s work was the dissemination of scholarship that sought to not only challenge systemic racism in America, but to encourage Africana folks to identify with the best of Africana, history, culture and values. It is without question then ­ ineteenth-​­ that Crummell, DuBois and Woodson are just examples of the late n and early to ­m id-­​­­twentieth-​­century ancestral foundations of Africana Studies at HBCUs.

The Black Campus Movement, Africana Studies and Black Power The rise of Africana Studies is also set within the backdrop of student revolutionary activism on college campuses. Coined by Ibram X Kendi as the Black Campus Movement (­BCM),9 students attending university campuses across the

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  49

nation concluded, along with the sentiments of many within African American communities, that the passing of the civil rights and voting rights legislations had not improved the life chances of Africana people. Inspired by the activism of the Civil Rights Movement and the emerging ideology of Black power, BCM students sought to challenge systemic racism, Eurocentric cultural values, capitalism and economic exploitation and genocide of continental and diasporan Africans. By June 1966, after the Meredith March Against Fear, many within Africana communities were no longer mobilizing for enfranchisement and other forms of civil rights, but for justice on college campuses and within their local communities under the banner of Black power and ­self-​­determination. BCM students in particular began reading and discussing writings from Ghana’s first President Kwame Nkrumah to Stokely Carmichael (­Kwame Toure’), Charles V. Hamilton and Frantz Fanon, for instance, in efforts to define what liberation could be.10 Armed with revolutionary and cultural nationalist ideals, BCM students, from SFSC to Cornell University, staged ­sit-​­ins outside presidents’ offices, commandeered administration and other campus buildings and organized ­campus-​ w ­ ide strikes demanding the creation of a relevant education and Africana (­Black) Studies courses, programs, centers and departments. In doing so, they called for curricula that not only reflected their African and diasporan history and culture. BCM students wanted a curriculum that provided culturally specific methods and models through which they could reconstruct social, political and economic infrastructures and values within Africana communities. Following the longest strike on any university campus to date (­November 6, ­1968–​­March 21, 1969), the demands initiated by BCM students who were members and affiliates of the Black Students Union and The Third World Liberation Front were met and the first bachelor’s ­degree-​­granting department began in the fall semester of 1969 at SFSC (­now University). The seeds for a formal discipline of Africana Studies had been sown. Students attending HBCUs during this time were also integral in creating the momentum for the disciplinary formation of Africana Studies. From Texas Southern University student demonstrations and demands for the end of police violence on campus and within the larger Houston Africana community to South Carolina State student activism against segregation in Orangeburg, South Carolina in 1968 (­leading to the murder of three students by the state police), BCM student activism shaped these revolutionary times.11 Often removed from discussions around the formation of Africana Studies on college campuses, a review of this period would be incomplete without a brief discussion of Howard University’s revolutionary struggles on campus between 1967 and 1969, which predated SFSC’s student strike.12 Following the passing of the civil rights legislation, Howard University faculty, students and administrators found themselves at odds with the direction of the university. In 1966, two years later, President James Nabrit promised to make desegregation a reality by announcing that Howard would drastically increase the enrollment of European Americans at the university. Sociology professor

50  Andrea Ringer et al.

Nathan Hare and several students and faculty pushed back on this declaration by teaching the campus community about the possibilities of a Black power consciousness.13 Hare was eventually fired for this and several other activities, but was immediately hired to chair and write the curriculum for SFSC’s department in 1968 before the SFSC strike. Shortly thereafter, from March 19 through March 23, 1968, at least 1,200 students occupied Howard’s administration building, demanding that as an HBCU, every department and program should offer courses that reflected the lived realities of the student population and prepared them to challenge white supremacy. Given Nabrit’s direction for the institution and these curricular concerns, what these BCM students wanted was a Black University with a relevant and pragmatic objective.14 On the last day of the demonstrations, which had effectively closed down most academic buildings and dorms and attracted upwards of 6,000 students and supporters, the administrators conceded that in the fall of 1968, the “­Toward a Black University Conference” would occur, which ultimately led to the creation of A ­ fro-​­American Studies at the University in 1970.

The Struggle for Africana Studies at Tennessee State University The first attempt to create a department of Africana Studies at TSU that occurred during this period met with much resistance. Civil rights historians have outlined the significant role the BCM students at Fisk University, TSU, Meharry and American Baptist College played in the struggle for desegregation in Nashville and throughout the south. In fact, because of student determination, Nashville became the first city in the south to desegregate lunch counters.15 Under the leadership of Fisk student Diane Nash, TSU young alum Leo Lillard and many other unforgotten activists also launched numerous Freedom Rides leaving from Nashville to points southward to test the 1960 court decision to integration of interstate travel.16 It is within these momentous years that BCM students at TSU sought a more relevant education during the ­m id-​­1960s in the same way that BCM did at SFSC and Howard, for instance. In one of the only written accounts of the development of African Studies at TSU, Amiri YaSin ­A l-​­Hadid describes their attempts: These activities at the beginning of the 1960s established a tradition of student activism at TSU. Student activists challenged the university’s administration to develop a curriculum that was “­relevant to the black experience.” The conservative administration conceded the argument that the curriculum should be more relevant to the black experience. However, they felt the university was predominately black and their demands could be met by creating Black Studies courses in the traditional departments. From their pragmatic perspective, it was not necessary to create a Black Studies department, program, or cultural center. A paradigm shift was unthinkable!17

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  51

Like the sentiments expressed by Howard University’s administration, TSU’s senior administration believed that active participation to bring about integration in America was best supported by maintaining a curriculum that reflected normative ­Western-​­oriented subject matter. It would take another twenty years before a new generation of BCM students would bring about the creation of the department. The series of ­A fricana-​­oriented courses approved by Academic Affairs and housed within traditional departments set the stage for the development of the discipline. While the first course on Africana subject matter, “­United States Industrial History with Particular Reference to the Negro,” was offered one year after the founding of the institution in 1912, after the revolutionary nationalist era, between 1968 and 1978, faculty began to offer courses in African American history, African American literature, African American political science and a host of other courses mainly in the areas of humanities and behavioral and social sciences.18 For some faculty and the new generation of BCM students, by 1984, the high enrollment of these courses would become part of the rationale to once again proceed with moving these courses into a freestanding academic unit. For approximately ten years, sympathetic faculty and BCM students remained in protracted struggle with TSU administration to bring about the discipline. Attempting to appeal to the TSU administration for the development of the academic department, members of the student government submitted referendums to Student Affairs so that the student government and student body could vote in favor of a department.19 With a series of delays that lasted for about four years, similar to Howard University students and Nashville BCM students approximately twenty years prior, students became frustrated and resorted to revolutionary tactics. On November 17, 1988, student government President Alfred Miller and approximately 200 BCM students occupied President Otis L. Floyd’s office and demanded to be heard.20 Not less than one month later, in December 1988, Floyd and Academic Affairs tapped the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences Bobbly L. Lovett to cochair the Africana Studies Committee with ­A l-​ H ­ adid. Over the next twelve months, the committee finalized the proposal for a freestanding department; but having to receive votes from faculty senate and academic affairs, the proposal was finally sent to the Tennessee Board of Regents in May 1993 for the final authorization, which the committee received just one month later. In January 1994, more than ­t wenty-​­five years after the first students struggled to bring about a department, TSU became one of the first bachelor’s d­ egree-​ g­ ranting Africana Studies departments in the Southeast and one of only a handful of units at HBCUs. From its inception, the department was on the cutting edge of A ­ frican-​­centered scholarship and community engagement. Under the chairpersonship of ­A l-​­Hadid and the A ­ frican-​­centered teaching and organizing of Wosene Yefru and Mayibuye Monanabela, offered wealth of A ­ frican-​­centered courses including African civilization, African spirituality, the great debate and even Arabic, Yoruba and Kiswahili for students to complete the major or minor

52  Andrea Ringer et al.

in the discipline. Furthermore, faculty hosted national conferences at TSU, widely attended campus and community programming and two study abroad programs to Kemet under the direction of Yefru and Gashawbeza Bekele, professor of geography. The overall objectives of the faculty were to train community ­activist-​­oriented critical thinkers and to equip students with ­A frican-​­centered critical thinking skills to help them create a more just and humane world, regardless of career.21 In 2020, students can no longer major in Africana Studies. Under a u ­ niversity-​ w ­ ide reorganization plan between 2011 and 2012 during the interim presidential term of Portia Shields, Africana Studies, because of budgetary concerns, was reduced to a program in which students can minor in Africana Studies and take Introduction to Africana Studies as one of their general education requirements. Changes have occurred among the founding core faculty. A ­ l-​­Hadid and Monanabela have retired and Yefru became chair of Africana Studies upon A ­ l-​ H ­ adid’s retirement and continues to serve as its current coordinator. The unit has merged with the Department of History, Geography and Political Science under the chairpersonship of African historian Adebayo Oyebade. Students continue to minor in Africana Studies and approximately 600 students take Africana Studies courses each year.

African American Studies at Fisk University Courses in Black Studies at Fisk University began in ­1911–​­1912 under the auspices of the Department of Social Science and Social Work headed by George Edmund Haynes. In particular, the department offered two courses titled “­H istory of the Negro in America” and “­The Negro Problem.” The university’s course on Negro history was also the country’s first course at an HBCU focusing on the African American experience. The course “­The Negro Problem” was normally offered in the student’s senior year and the “­H istory of the Negro in America” was usually offered in the student’s junior year. Both courses ran for two semesters (­or one full academic year). In addition to these courses, another course called “­Sociology and Social Problems” was offered in the Department of Social Science and Social Work. In addition to delving into some of the complex issues surrounding race in the United States, the course also offered a series of lectures, some of which focused exclusively on the Black experience. According to its course description, the lectures series part of the course focused on “­problems and methods of bettering conditions among Negroes in cities [and was] given by social experts from various cities.”22 Some of these lectures included renowned scholars on race issues such as W.E.B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington. The course offered six lectures on the “­Religious Problem Among Negroes in Cities” and three lectures on “­Special Problems Among Negro Women in Cities,” This latter course being the first academic course focusing on the condition and experiences of Black women and Black womanhood in the United States.

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  53

At this stage, a look into what students studied while taking these early Black Studies’ classes is useful. According to Fisk University’s 1­ 911–​­1912 course description of its “­H istory of the Negro in America,” students could expect the following: A rapid survey is made of the early period of the importation of slaves and of the social and economic conditions which gave rise to slavery, as well as the suppression of the slave trade. A more intensive study is made of the two periods, ­1820–​­1860, and 1860 to the present day. The Study thus gives historical perspective for the understanding of present conditions, an appreciation of the honored names of the Negroes of the past, and an estimate of the genuine contributions the Negro people has made in the way of labor force, military strength, musical culture, etc., to American civilization.23 According to Fisk University’s ­1911–​­1912 course description of its “­The Negro Problem,” students could also expect the following: It is the aim of this course to use all available data to acquaint the student with the part the Negro has in the developing life of America and with the economic, political, intellectual, religious and social forces that enter into the condition and relations of the Negro in America. Particular attention is given to urban conditions. Reviews of current books and articles on the Negro Problem are made. The student is thus developed in the power of independent thinking upon the subject.24 Haynes was a pioneer on many fronts, including being a cofounder of the National Urban League and the first Black PhD from Columbia University, but his early work in the field of what became African American Studies remains largely unknown to a wider public. By the turn of the twentieth century, the courses offered by Fisk University’s Department of Social Science and Social Work headed by Haynes were parts of only a handful of courses focusing on the Black experience offered at HBCUs. Carter G. Woodson taught Black history in 1919 at Howard University and Professor Benjamin Brawley offered a course on Black history at Atlanta Baptist College in 1­ 912–​­1913.25 As part of his social work program, Haynes and his students conducted field work and offered clinics in Nashville’s Black community. This innovative model of practice which observed, documented and made prescriptions predicated on the experiences and social conditions of Blacks was repeated at other universities such as New York University, the University of Pittsburgh and Columbia University. Thus, under the direction of Haynes, Fisk University’s Department of Social Science and Social Work helped to establish and formalize in higher education an innovative program for the study and improvement of African Americans.

54  Andrea Ringer et al.

Famed sociologist and leading race relations expert Charles S. Johnson would lead Fisk University’s Department of Social Sciences from 1928 to 1947. During much of this early period, Johnson’s work on race relations at Fisk University established him as only one of a handful of scholars focusing on the African American experience within the academy (­notable others include W.E.B. Du Bois at Atlanta University and Dr. Carter G. Woodson). Charles S. Johnson’s Race Relations Institute would grow to achieve national and international acclaim for its pioneering work. As Gilpin and Gasman write, for many years: social scientists had been studying race relations and the lives of Black people. But there had not been an attempt to shape this body of knowledge and information into the definite structure of an agency program. With the founding of the Department of Race Relations, it became the task of Johnson and his staff at Fisk to discover a way of rendering services to the communities in need of them and making a dent in the armor of segregation and discrimination, long established in countless social practices as ways of meeting the racial problem.26 Under Johnson’s leadership, Fisk University also participated in several endeavors with other scholars and academicians seeking to formalize an interdisciplinary academic field of Black Studies. For instance, archaeologist Melville Herskovits convened a conference on Negro studies in 1940 to plan and develop such an interdisciplinary course of study. Fisk University sent Charles S. Johnson and Lorenzo Turner to participate, and the two became members of the conference’s subsequent Committee on Negro Studies (­CONS). Dr. Herskovits would also deliver a series of lectures at Fisk University, part of which centered on African culture and its continuities among African Americans.27 The leadership which Charles S. Johnson provided to the nation on race relations placed a heavy demand on his time and schedule. Despite his heavy involvement in these endeavors, however, Johnson also regularly taught his Black Studies course at Fisk University titled “­The Negro in America.” This survey course introduced students to the place, condition and potential of African Americans from a sociological perspective. Under his leadership, the Department of Social Sciences also introduced a sociology seminar course in 1936 titled Sociology ­396–​­97 that provided an intensive examination of race and culture. The course was regularly taught by the famed sociologist Robert Park, and provided students with training in research skills and statistics and the opportunity to hone in on specific sociological issues stemming from race and society. According to Johnson’s biographers, the course was highly popular among students and faculty due to its h ­ ands-​­on pedagogy, and it would often offer perspectives from guest speakers from across the race relations universe.28 Because the African American heritage is twofold (­containing experiences in both America and Africa), a brief discussion of Fisk University’s academic courses of study on the Black experience prior to the importation of enslaved

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  55

Africans to the Americas as well on Africa in general is in order. Decades prior to his presidency at Fisk and while still serving as its Chair of the Department of Social Sciences, Charles S. Johnson established the African Studies program in 1943. The African Studies program was innovative in a number of ways. Not only was it one of the first of such programs formally established at an HBCU at the time, but its faculty was filled with some of the foremost leading thinkers in the field. Such members include Mark Hanna Watkins, Donald Pierson, Lorenzo D. Turner and Robert Park, among others. Johnson also created the African and Caribbean Studies program during this time. With this program of study, Johnson formally established intimate and institutional links with many African and African diasporic nations such as Liberia and Haiti. In fact, Johnson created a language program with Haiti, whereby Fisk faculty would learn Creole and conduct research on the island and Haitian students would enroll in residence on Fisk’s campus. Thus, Johnson quietly established one of the earliest Black language programs at an institution of higher learning within the United States. Although Johnson proposed to offer a curriculum in African Studies for which students might obtain a bachelor’s or master’s degree, the program itself was never elevated above a concentration within the Department of Social Sciences. As America entered World War II and major philanthropic organizations redirected their focus to more national projects, the African Studies program at Fisk gradually dissolved. But this early enterprise would lay the foundation for a more regular and routinized curricular offering of Africana courses. After these initial periods, a smattering of course offerings on at least some aspects of the African American experience have been available at Fisk University with regularity. A later attempt to bring a coherent framework and direct attention to the formal study of African Americans at Fisk University was established with the introduction of its CORE Curriculum in the ­m id-​­1970s. Among other things, CORE gave students exposure to cultural knowledge that provided two semesters/­one year of African American Heritage in tandem with Composition.29 These courses were required of every student and required a C for course completion. At the behest of Lean’tin Bracks, Chair of the Department of Arts and Languages, along with Linda Wynn, History Instructor, and Reavis Mitchell, Dean of the School of Humanities and Behavioral Social Science, the idea to institutionalize a program of study dealing exclusively with the heritage and experiences of African Americans was formally revisited at Fisk University.30 Out of their initial conversations on the subject, it was decided in Spring 2016 to create an African American Studies minor.31 The idea gained widespread support from across all spectrums of the campus community. For instance, Jessie Carney Smith, renowned scholar and Dean of the Fisk University Library, stressed the immense potential for research and scholarship for students and faculty in African American Studies.32 Bracks formally submitted a proposal to create a minor in African American Studies to the Faculty’s Education and Research Committee in Fall 2016. The Fisk Faculty Assembly approved the African American Studies

56  Andrea Ringer et al.

Minor at its February/­March 2017 meeting, and it was officially announced to the campus community in Fall 2017. Bracks oversaw the minor from 2017 until her retirement in 2019. During this time frame, the Minor attracted many students, and several alumni reached out to offer their congratulations for restoring Fisk University’s unique role as an academic leader in the Black experience. Upon Bracks’ retirement, A. Hannibal Leach, Assistant Professor of Political Science, has headed the Minor.

Digital History in the Humanities: Framework and Methodology The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville project connects these two ­long-​­standing institutional histories through digitization and archival efforts. Although digital history is dependent on technology and computing, it is a craft grounded in humanities fields. Like other humanities disciplines, the relatively nascent field of digital history rests on theoretical underpinnings that center on concepts like perspective rather than simply mapping out ­how-​­to guides. As Trevor Owens has said, “­d igital preservation remains a rather nonlinear, iterative, and interactive process.”33 Although scholars in the larger field of digital humanities often intentionally distance their work from the sciences and instead emphasize the subjectivity of creating and maintaining archival collections, Malte Rehbein has noted that digital humanities fields are “­located at the intersection of between Humanities and Computer Science.” Digital history and the practice of archiving the past, however, exist within the more subjective realm.34 Several ongoing conversations and debates about physical and digital archiving have shaped the preservation field. Best practices for physical archives have shifted substantially, particularly around how to store and handle documents and artifacts.35 Projects like the Open Archival Information System (­OAIS) model have offered ways to standardize language and frameworks in the digital history field. In turn, this has allowed greater collaboration between institutions and researchers.36 In particular, the standardized practices in digital history and preservation have allowed The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville project to collaborate across several academic institutions. These ongoing conversations between digital and physical preservation demonstrate the ways that each of these efforts can and should coordinate to create more accessible collections. The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville responds to this in several ways. Theorists have noted that preservation is the practice of ensuring access to information for the future.37 For this project, preservation is multimodal to ensure the greatest access. This means that digital preservation is the logical next step for the Africana Studies collection, but it does not preclude the continued existence of the physical collection.38 The project centers on the digitization of physical archives that span the entire history, from its conception as a freestanding department through its current iteration as a vibrant program at TSU. To align with best practices in preservation, we are archiving these previously unorganized materials in ­acid-​­free physical boxes. The

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  57

digitization process, which is the transformation of an object in the collection to digital format, also follows best practices. In this instance, each document is organized and tagged with metadata to create a “­networked digital environment.”39 Portions of the digital archives are also featured in a digital exhibit hosted through Omeka. This exhibit features a curated selection of sources found in both the physical and digital archives. Taken together, each of these parts provides a ­broad-​­based point of access to this history. Researchers, students and community members will be able to access the history in a variety of mediums and narrative forms. This public access to the project is a pivotal part of the overall purpose. This history documents the institutional development of Africana programs in Nashville. However, their origins intersect with larger protest movements in and between the campuses. Moreover, graduates from the Africana Studies department have remained invested in both TSU and Nashville. Oral histories with former department members and graduates are a fundamental part of the information gathering process for this project. In this way, The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville project resembles community archives. The most common definitions of community archives place the collections outside of traditional institutions of power. This practice was born out of necessity, as dominant institutions often have sordid histories with historically oppressed communities. In those instances, the role of the archivist or digital historian, in both the collection process and the management of collections, creates sometimes unaddressed power dynamics with dominant institutions maintaining control of the archives.40 In Africana Studies departments, especially at HBCUs, institutional power is more connected to Black networks and communities outside the university. As part of the institutional history of TSU, the physical Africana Studies collection will remain on campus as part of the special collections at the ­Brown-​­Daniel Library.41 The physical proximity between TSU and Fisk lend to an intersecting history of Black Studies between the two institutions, which also lends to the framework of community archives. Both HBCUs, along with MeHarry Medical College, serve as community anchors in the predominately Black neighborhoods of North Nashville. The ­public-​­facing segments of the project demonstrate how digital projects at HBCUs can bridge institutional and community histories in more equitable ways.

Africana Studies and Digital History Our project intersects with several ongoing digital initiatives within Africana Studies. The field of eBlack studies, pioneered by Abdul Alkalimat, entered Black Studies at nearly the same time that a call for digital history began appearing as a field.42 For eBlack studies, its stated purpose “­is a call for the transformation of Black studies, a move from ideology to information.”43 It rests on the guiding principle that information should be accessible, an idea that aligns with The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville project. Alkalimat has continued to theorize on eBlack studies, proving insights into its origins as rooted in “­d igital

58  Andrea Ringer et al.

inequalities” and “­local struggles.”44 This centering of Black Studies within the larger field of digital humanities mirrors the developments of the programs themselves, which were born out of protest that allowed them to define their own existence.45 The project also fits within a larger Afrofuturist framework through its digital components, oral histories and multigenerational engagement.46 Roopika Risam has argued in several pieces that applying such a framework is necessary to disrupt the “­hegemony of the Anglophone digital humanities.”47 Finally, the project engages with the same “­technology of recovery” discussions that motivate Kim Gallon’s call for the Black Digital Humanities.48 Alkalimat, Risam, Gallon and other scholars have already begun creating connections between Africana Studies and digital history. Our work seeks to build on these conversations through unique multimodal and collaborative methodologies.

Principal Investigators and Funding for Digital Africana Studies The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville project directors bring interdisciplinary perspectives and methodologies to the process. It is a collaboration between Africana Studies, history and political science faculty members, each of whom teaches in their respective Africana Studies programs. Sekhmet Maat is an assistant professor in Africana Studies at TSU with research areas in A ­ frican-​ c­entered theories and methodologies. Andrea Ringer, Assistant Professor at TSU, brings a public history background to the digitization project. A. Hannibal Leach, Assistant Professor of Political Science and Director of the African American Studies Program at Fisk University, works in critical race theory to research topics in American Politics and International Relations. Collectively, the research interests provide a ­well-​­balanced approach to creating a digital archive. However, TSU and Fisk projects run parallel, with each institution managing and operating their own set. Vanderbilt University’s Center for Digital Humanities is at the heart of the possibility to document these histories. Each year, for the past two to three years, Vanderbilt University has offered through the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation collaborative faculty grants for digital projects. Eligible institutions include TSU, Fisk and Vanderbilt in Tennessee, Berea College in Kentucky and Tougaloo College in Mississippi. In the fall of 2019, the authors submitted a proposal for Vanderbilt University’s Mellon Partners in Humanities grant and received funds that were distributed between Fisk and TSU to cover the cost of the archival process. Being recipients of the collaborative grant, the authors also attended digital workshops led by Vanderbilt’s Digital Humanities administrators. These workshops introduced the authors to the interworking of Omeka, the digital platform that will house the archive. The workshops also taught the art of scanning primary source documents for digitization. The first phase of the project at both institutions began during the spring of 2020 and will be completed by January 2021. While the initial phase will only allow us to highlight the key documents, it is our hope to secure further funding for future digitizing projects.

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  59

Description of the Digital Archive The root of the proposal linked TSU’s t­wenty-­​­­five-​­year Africana Studies program history to Fisk’s longer history of African American Studies, which has existed through several iterations. The collaboration ties two HBCUs with unique institutional histories and student bodies. TSU is the only public HBCU in the state of Tennessee and has a Carnegie research II doctoral institution designation. With a student population that has reached nearly 10,000 at its peak, the university graduates mostly STEM and agriculture majors. As a l­and-​­grant institution, it receives state and federal funding, which as an HBCU makes for limited resources to initiate ­research-​­based archival projects of this caliber. Fisk University however serves a smaller population of Africana students and is a private liberal arts institution. Even with its longer history of educating African Americans dating to 1866, the university, like TSU, also has limited resources for a digital project of this nature. As a private liberal arts institution, however, a digital project fits within the research and teaching objectives of the institution. The main questions this research project centers around are: what is the origin of the discipline at each institution, what were the roles of students, faculty and administration in its development, what institutional challenges were overcome, what disciplinary activities, conferences and study abroad programs were developed and what are faculty and administrators’ memories and perspectives about the discipline’s development and institutionalization? All these questions are key, given the unique history of Africana Studies at both institutions and given that the origins of these units fall outside the normative development of the discipline. At TSU, the discipline emerges t­wenty-​­five years after most institutions, including units at other HBCUs. The very recent origin of the minor at Fisk is also unique because while it also emerges after the revolutionary context of the 1960s, its origins can be placed within the long history of African Studies at Fisk and in the intellectual labor of early African American historians and social scientists. These separate yet interesting histories are worthy to be digitally archived and forever remembered. The parallel projects at TSU and Fisk have several repositories of information to recover the history of Black Studies programs in Nashville. Meticulously kept records at both universities detail the institutional founding of the programs. In this vein, The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville project at TSU, both in archival and exhibit form, is part of an ongoing preservation effort begun by the first chair of the Africana Studies department at TSU, Amiri ­A l-​­Hadid. These records contain primary source documents from Dean Lovett and ­A l-​ ­Hadid’s Africana Studies Committee that wrote the proposal for the freestanding department. Other primary documents include statements of purpose from the Africana Studies Council, which ­A l-​­Hadid and Monanabela supported to keep up the momentum for the creation of the Department as faculty waited for approval. In April 1989, while waiting for the approval from TSU faculty, administration and the Tennessee Board of Regents, the Africana Studies Council

60  Andrea Ringer et al.

cosponsored the National Council of Black Studies annual conference, one of the foremost Africana Studies organizations at the time. A strategic move to demonstrate the credibility of the discipline, TSU also became the first HBCU in history to house this conference (­these documents are also available). From initial course listings, undergraduate theses, newspaper articles, correspondences and language class listings to other conference and programming documents, there are an abundance of materials. The expansiveness of these records, many that have yet to be used for research on Africana Studies within TSU’s institutional history, makes this project necessary. Fisk University’s long experiences with Black Studies courses, African course offerings, its Race Relations Institute under Charles S. Johnson, the many archives housed in its vast Special Collections library and the many students, faculty and staff associated with social justice initiatives throughout its many years, all make this project especially appealing. This ­long-​­term collection of documents, across multiple Africana Studies chairs and faculty members, captures the collaborative nature of the project. These two parallel ­long-​­standing histories also exist in institutional memory from several founding members of each department. This portion of the project is grounded in an oral history project featuring faculty and administrators who were central to the founding and d­ ay-­​­­to-​­day operations of Africana studies and African American studies. On the TSU side, ­A l-​­Hadid is still part of the Nashville community as well as Wosene Yefru, current coordinator of Africana studies at TSU, who has been teaching in Africana Studies since its inception at TSU. Several alumni who received their bachelor’s degree in Africana Studies will also be interviewed and included to gauge their memories of the department and how their education within the discipline influenced their life paths and careers. Interviews with Lean’tin Bracks, the founding coordinator of Fisk’s African American Studies program, will also be included within their archival project. The interviews will be video recorded and housed as primary sources for future community use and research. We will also collect oral histories and interviews of students from the first cohort of the African American Studies Minor at Fisk University. Perspectives from the African American Studies’ current primary faculty at Fisk University will also be included. These faculty members not only routinely provide the bulk of the African American Studies’ course offerings at Fisk University, but many of them were also among those who saw the need for such a program, and generously donated their time and support to help ensure its success through administrative hurdles. Each one of these collaborations has been integral to structuring a multifaceted digital and archival history project. First, prior to writing the grant, the faculty leads at each institution identified many of the files that documented the creation and history of their respective Africana program. At TSU, the files were organized in large vertical file cabinets outside a faculty office. Collectively, the significance of these histories pointed to a definite need to make the information more readily available and better preserved. Second, faculty leads at each institution identified undergraduate students in relevant courses of study to collaborate

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  61

on the project. Third, after familiarizing the students with the collections, the project partners began pulling documents for digitization. Part of this process included putting aside multiple copies of a single document as well as documents with sensitive information. It is important to note here that even with the grant, unexpected funding issues still plagued the project in the beginning stages. The grant money was unable to provide technology, and the Africana Studies program at TSU did not have an extra computer or scanner for the students to digitize the materials. Scanners in the common areas of the TSU library became the best fit for the project. However, this forced a conceptual shift in the digitization process. The original grant narrative had imagined students doing the digitization work in the Africana Studies office where the files were located. Because the files were too large to be moved to the library en masse, the project faculty had to provide a new folder for students to scan every few days. Faculty then engaged in metadata tagging and accessioning for each object before adding it to the Omeka digital collection. Project faculty created several exhibits from these collections, including one on the development of an African language curriculum at TSU.

Africana Studies Digital Archive Process November 2­ 019–​­December 2019: Personnel begin to discuss specific approach to organization of project. Undergraduate student workers will be hired from both institutions in preparation for training of personnel and students in January. November ­2019–​­January 2020: Joint training of personnel and student workers from TSU and Fisk on accession, metadata construction and exhibit presentation process by Vanderbilt’s Center for Digital Humanities. May 2020: Personnel sort through archives in offices and gather and sort data. Conducting research in newspaper archives and databases will begin. Personnel will also begin recording interviews. January ­2020–​­August 2020: Student workers at respective institutions begin scanning and tagging documents and creating metadata for materials in Omeka collected by personnel. Student workers also begin tagging and filing documents in archival storage in program offices. August ­2020–​­October 2020: Personnel will begin to create the digital exhibit, write descriptions and narrative around documents, newspaper articles and videos. November 2­ 020–​­December 2020: Vanderbilt Center for Digital Humanities presentation on the exhibit by Maat, Ringer and Leach. Maat, Ringer and Leach, along with students, will present this digital exhibit at TSU and at Fisk for the campus and broader Nashville community to learn about the development of the discipline at HBCUs in Nashville. Gift the digital archives to TSU and Fisk libraries.

62  Andrea Ringer et al.

Conclusion The discipline of Africana Studies began at HBCUs during several different moments and has its origin story within the larger African Studies movement of the early twentieth century and the radical Black power era of s­elf-​­determination during the ­m id-​­twentieth century. While neither TSU nor Fisk Africana Studies units emerged directly during the latter period like Howard University and many predominately white institutions departments, TSU and Fisk, because of these facts, have very interesting histories that must be told. The purpose of The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville seeks to introduce this neglected history to the Nashville community. As a digital project that is open access through the Omeka mainframe, it in fact becomes a liberatory project because all who are interested can access the project without needing institutional affiliation or physical institutional access. In this way, it is a ­community-​­oriented historical project and in the tradition of Alkalimat, is the future direction of research and scholarship in the discipline. The History of Africana Studies at HBCUs in Nashville, then, is scholarship and adds to the dearth of literature documenting the origins of Africana Studies units at institutions in general and at HBCUs in particular. To date, there is only one article written on the development of Africana Studies at TSU and this has been written by its first chair, ­A l-​­Hadid. Fisk University, with its direct ties to African Studies during the early twentieth century, makes for a rich project of recovery, linking the minor to Fisk’s brilliant intellectual workers. This digital project may in fact be the first formal documentation of Fisk’s program. The project then is charting new academic territory in the discipline. Therefore, as the project is multimodal, we are hoping that researchers will be attracted to TSU and Fisk. Because of TSU and Fisk’s limited resources, creation of both digital and physical archives to be housed in our respective libraries will encourage researchers and academics to utilize the archives for article and manuscript production in the area of Africana Studies at HBCUs.

Notes 1 Within this chapter, the authors make a distinction between African Studies and Africana Studies as the chapter will explain. However, throughout the chapter, the authors use Africana as a term to discuss the collective Africana and diasporic experiences. Terms used interchangeably within Africana include African American and Black. 2 Maulana Karenga, Introduction to Black Studies (­ L os Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 2010), 3. 3 Linda James Myers, “­Optimal Theory and the Academic and Philosophical Origins of Black Studies,” in Nathaniel Norment, Jr. (­ed.), The African American Studies Reader (­Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2001), ­295–​­301. 4 Jerry Gershenhorn, “‘­Not an Academic Affair’: African American Scholars and the Development of African Studies Programs in the United States, ­1942–​­1960,” The Journal of African American History 94(­1), 2009: 50.

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  63

5 Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, “­Building Intellectual Bridges: From African Studies and African American Studies to Africana Studies in the United States,” Afrika Focus 24(­2), 2011: ­13–​­16. 6 Nathaniel Norment, African American Studies: The Discipline and Its Dimensions (­New York: Peter Lang, 2019), ­x ii–​­xiii. 7 Talmadge Anderson and James Stewart, Introduction to African American Studies: Transdisciplinary Approaches and Implications (­Baltimore, MD: Black Classic Press, 2007). 8 Pero Gaglo Dagbovie, “­Making Black History Practical and Popular: Carter G. Woodson, the Proto Black Studies Movement and the Struggle for Black Liberation,” The Western Journal of Black Studies 27(­4), 2003: ­263–​­274. 9 Ibram X Kendi, The Black Campus Movement: Black Students and the Racial Reconstruction of Higher Education, ­1965-​­1972 (­New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012). 10 Lerone Bennett, “­Confrontation on the Campus,” Ebony 23(­7), 1968: ­27–​­28. 11 Martha Biondi, The Black Revolution on Campus (­Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004). 12 However, Black Students Union at SFSC had been in negotiations with administration for an Africana Studies department since the fall of 1966. 13 Biondi, The Black Revolution, 35. 14 Ibid., 51. 15 Staff, “­Complete Coverage: The Civil Rights Movement in Nashville,” The Tennessean, May 9, 2020, https://­w ww.tennessean.com/­story/­news/­2020/­05/­10/­­nashville-­​ ­­lunch-­​­­counters-­​­­desegregation-­​­­civil-​­r ights/­4807209002/ (­accessed June 29, 2020). 16 Jessica Bliss, “­60 Years Ago, Nashville Became the First City in the Segregated South to Integrate Lunch Counters,” The Tennessean, March 2, 2017, https://­w ww.tennessean.com/­story/­news/­local/­2017/­03/­02/­­complete-­​­­coverage-­​­­civil-­​­­r ights-­​­­movement-​ ­nashville/­98648442/ (­accessed June 29, 2020). 17 Amiri YaSin ­A l-​­Hadid, “­A fricana Studies at Tennessee State University,” in Delores P. Aldridge and Carlene Young (­eds.), Out of the Revolution: The Development of Africana Studies (­Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2000), 97. 18 ­Al-​­Hadid, “­A fricana Studies,” ­95–​­101. 19 Ibid., 101. 20 Ibid., 111. 21 Tennessee State University Africana Studies program, “­A fricana Studies” (­brochure). 22 Fisk University, Catalogue of the Officers, Students, and Alumni: Catalogue Number 1 ­ 911–​ ­1912 (­Nashville, 1912). 23 Fisk University, “­Catalogue,” 50. 24 Ibid. 25 A. Meier and E. M. Rudwick, Black History and the Historical Profession, ­1915–​­80 (­Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1986). 26 Patrick Gilpin, and Marybeth Gasman, Charles S. Johnson Leadership beyond the Veil in the Age of Jim Crow (­A lbany: State University of New York Press, 2003). 27 Gershenhorn, Jerry, Melville J. Herskovits and the Racial Politics of Knowledge ( ­Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2004). 28 Marybeth Gasman and Patrick J. Gilpin, Charles S. Johnson (­New York: State University of New York Press, 2003). 29 Lean’tin Bracks, The History of Fisk University’s African American Studies Minor: Chronicled and Discussed (­Nashville, TN: Unpublished Manuscript, 2019). 30 Ibid. 31 Ibid. 32 Ibid. 33 Trevor Owens, The Theory and Craft of Digital Preservation (­Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2018), 72, 75. 34 Malte Rehbein, “­H istorical Network Research, Digital History, and Digital Humanities,” in Florian Kerschbaumer, Linda von ­Keyserlingk-​­Rehbein, Martin Stark, and

64  Andrea Ringer et al.

Marten Düring (­eds.), The Power of Networks: Prospects of Historical Network Research (­New York: Routledge, 2019), 2­ 53–​­279; Rehbein notes a “­­two-​­fold definition” of digital humanities that is inclusive of more ­quantitative-​­driven research in the subfield of Historical Information Science. See also: Onno Boonstra, Leen Breure, and Peter Doorn, “­Past, Present, and Future of Historical Information Science,” Historical Social Research/­Historische Sozialforschung 29(­2), 2004: ­4 –​­132. 35 Emily Williams and Katherine Ridgeway, “­Balancing Access, Research, and Preservation: Conservation Concerns for Old Collections,” in Rebecca Allen and Ben Ford (­eds.), New Life for Archaeological Collections (­Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2019), 117. 36 David Nathan, “­On the Reach of Digital Archives,” in Amanda Harris, Nick Thieberger, and Linda Barwith (­eds.), Research, Records, and Responsibiltiy (­Sydney: Sydney University Press, 2015), 53; Lorraine L. Richards, “­Teaching Data Creators How to Develop an ­OIAS-​­Compliant Curation System: Colearning and Breakdowns in Support of Requirements Analysis,” The American Archivist 79(­2): ­371–​­91. Richards demonstrates the significance of standardization in the description of a project that required Federal Aviation Administration researchers to share data through a common repository. 37 Trevor Owens, The Theory and Craft of Digital Preservation (­Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2018), 73. Trevor Owens has theorized extensively on the definitions and purposes of preservation, noting that future access is the driving force behind the practice. 38 Edward M. Corrado and Heather Moulaison Sandy, Digital Preservation for Libraries, Archives, and Museums (­New York: Rowman and Littlefield, 2014), 17. Corrado and Moulaison have noted that digital preservation can be even less stable than physical archives with its reliance on ­third-​­party platform providers. This constant need to monitor and maintain online collections speaks on the need to preserve collections in various mediums. 39 Jane Zhang and Dayne Mauney, “­W hen Archival Description Meets Digital Object Metadata: A Typological Study of Digital Archival Representation,” The American Archivist 76(­1), 2013: 175. 40 Michelle Caswell, Marika Cifor, and Mario H. Ramirez, “­To Suddenly Discover Yourself Existing: Uncovering the Impact of Community Archives,” The American Archivist 79(­1), 2016: ­56–​­81; Amy E. Earhart, “­Can We Trust the University? Digital Humanities Collaborations with Historically Exploited Cultural Communities,” in Elizabeth Losh and Jacqueline Wernimont (­eds.), Bodies of Information: Intersectional Feminism and the Digital Humanities (­M inneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2018), 369; Diana K. Wakimoto, Debra L. Hansen, and Christine Bruce, “­The Case of LLACE: Challenges, Triumphs, and Lessons of a Community Archive,” The American Archivist 76(­2), Fall/­Winter 2013: ­438–​­57. 41 This aligns with other Africana Studies projects that have made similar decisions to draw together “­campus and community.” See: Noah Lenstra and Abdul Alkalimat, “­eBlack Studies as Digital Archives: A Proof of Concept Study in C ­ hampaign-​ ­Urbana, Illinois,” Fire!!! 1(­2), Summer/­Winter 2012: 154. 42 Abdul Alkalimat also spent time teaching at Fisk University, where he organized the National Planning Conference of the Year to Pull Off the Covers of Imperialism, which drew together Black scholars and activists to Nashville. See: “­Report from the National Planning Conference: Year to Pull the Covers off Imperialism Project,” The Black Scholar 6(­5), 1975: ­54–​­56. 43 Abdul Alkalimat, “­eBlack Studies: A T ­ wenty-​­First Century Challenge,” Souls: Critical Journal of Black Politics & Culture 2(­3), Summer 2000: 69. 44 Lenstra and Alkalimat, “­eBlack Studies as Digital Community Archives,” 153. 45 Abdul Alkalimat and Ronald Bailey, “­From Black to eBlack: The Digital Transformation of Black Studies Pedagogy,” Fire!!! 1(­1), 2012: 9.

A Century of Africa-Centered Programs on Black Campuses  65

46 Adam J. Banks, Digital Griots: African American Rhetoric in a Multimedia Age (­Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 2011), 87. In his larger analysis of Black rhetorical development, Banks analyzes “­back in the day narratives” of history and memory, which he identifies as “­a n Afrofuturistic approach to activism.” 47 Risam’s ongoing work addresses several ways that this hegemony is perpetuated. Although this project addresses several of her points on intersectionality, there are still gaps in the field, such as projects dominated by ­English-​­language sources. See Roopika Risam, “­Navigating the Global Digital Humanities: Insights from Black Feminism,” in Matthew K. Gold and Lauren F. Klein (­eds.), Debates in the Digital Humanities 2016 (­M inneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2016), 365. For an analysis that draws Risam’s interventions into larger arguments about the need for intersectional digital projects, see: Patrik Svensson, Big Digital Humanities: Imagining a Meeting Place for the Humanities and the Digital (­A nn Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2016), 80. 48 Kim Gallon, “­Making a Case for the Black Digital Humanities,” in Matthew K. Gold and Lauren F. Klein (­eds.), Debates in the Digital Humanities (­M inneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2016), 43.

4 KWAME NKRUMAH, BLACK ACTIVISM, AND THE EMERGENCE AND DEVELOPMENT OF AFRICANA STUDIES Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

Introduction The thrust of Africana Studies as an academic discipline is the reevaluation of the place of the African in world civilization. The discipline thus proposes an interdisciplinary approach to the study of the black experience in global perspective. The first president of independent Ghana, Kwame Nkrumah, provided an important setting for the emergence and development of the discipline, particularly in Africa, but also in the African Diaspora. Nkrumah was a theoretician, a philosopher, a global revolutionary icon, and leader of the first independent country in ­sub-​­Saharan Africa. He was an alumnus of two notable American institutions, Lincoln University, a historically black college (­H BCU) in Pennsylvania, and the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. An ardent ­pan-​­Africanist, while in the United States Nkrumah took a lot of interest in the study of Africa and the African diaspora, and on his return to Africa, espoused a philosophy termed “­A frican Personality.” Essentially, this philosophy expressed the distinctiveness yet unity of African culture and the ability of Africans to chart their own future.1 In his base in Ghana, Nkrumah provided the u ­ p-­​­­and-​­coming black revolutionaries a rallying point for the flowering of intellectual ideas about Africa. Among those who benefitted from Nkrumah’s revolutionary ideas were two leading figures in the international black emancipation movement, Stokely Carmichael and Obi E. Egbuna,2 both of whom were ardent admirers of Nkrumah’s revolutionary credential.3 Indeed, Nkrumah’s intellectual stature influenced many revolutionaries to make conscious efforts to promote the academic study of Africa. Nkrumah could be credited with a body of works, in books and in other publications such as conference addresses, statements, and speeches, which called for new perspectives to the study of Africa. His protégés in the black emancipation movement also played a role in the advocacy for Africana Studies. This chapter DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-6

Black Activism, Emergence and Development of Africana Studies  67

examines Nkrumah’s role in the emergence of Africana Studies in Africa and his influence on civil rights activism and the black revolutionary movement in the United States that contributed to the emergence of Africana Studies.

Nkrumah and the Emergence of African Studies in Africa Nkrumah participated actively in the 1945 P ­ an-​­African Conference in Manchester, England, alongside other ­Pan-​­Africanists such as W.E.B. Du Bois, George Padmore, Jomo Kenyatta, and others. The Congress’ Declaration to the Colonial Peoples of the World, adopted by the delegates, was drafted by Nkrumah. In part, the document called on the emerging African intellectuals and professionals to rise to a responsibility of carving a new African narrative.4 By this, Nkrumah demonstrated that he was not only an advocate for the rights of black people, but also for a new way to portray the African world in scholarship. Nkrumah’s early career in the p­ ost-​­1945 Congress clearly demonstrated that he was an advocate for the oppressed peoples of Africa and blacks in the Caribbean, the United States, and Britain. He was acutely aware of the historic suffering by black people through slavery, colonialism, racism, underdevelopment, and imperialism, and sought a clear path of action to redress this trajectory. His writings, Towards Colonial Freedom, for example, encouraged colonial people to fight for political and democratic freedom.5,6 In his concept of African Personality, Nkrumah called for a perspective to the study of Africa that makes black people the custodian of their own history, not others. As he argued: For too long in our history, Africa has spoken through the voices of others. Now, what I have called an African personality in international affairs will have a chance of making its proper impact and will let the world know it through the voices of Africa’s own sons.7 Evidently, Nkrumah connected African history with the history of blacks in the diaspora. This came from his experience as a student in the United States, where he had learned from prominent black figures such as Du Bois, Leo Hansberry, Marcus Garvey, and others who espoused pride in African heritage in the face of Eurocentric trappings of the American educational system.8 According to his biographer, Basil Davidson, Nkrumah himself taught “­Negro history” at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, a course he found to be essentially American history which prompted him to be instrumental in the foundation of an African Studies program in the university.9 Nkrumah’s African Personality project was intrinsically connected to the African Diaspora as he directed his intellectual thoughts to connecting Africa and the wider black world. His speeches, statements, and writings such as Revolutionary Path; Africa Must Unite; Consciencism; I Speak of Freedom, among others,

68  Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

explored relations between the two geographical entities in order to establish a global African link. This was an era of momentous events such as civil rights actions in the United States, ­anti-​­colonial movements in Africa, revolutions in Latin America and the Caribbean, and ­anti-​­capitalist movements in Asia. Nkrumah closely followed these events as was evident in his works such as The Spectre of Black Power; The Struggle Continues; and Africa Day Special Message where he connected them to what he called “­A frican Revolution.”10 Furthermore, Nkrumah’s African Personality project rejected colonial educational programs and demanded a redirection to African systems of thought, new ideas, new textbooks, and new curriculum. Nkrumah lamented the Eurocentric education being fed to Africans. As he put it: Our textbooks were English textbooks, telling us about English history, English geography, English ways of living, English customs, English ideas, English weather… All this has to be changed.11 Nkrumah concluded, “­it is vital that we should nurture our own culture and history if we are to develop that African personality which must provide the educational and intellectual foundations of our ­Pan-​­African future.”12 By the 1960s, many colonial states in Africa had become independent and the voices of many of its leaders began to be heard in international fora such as the United Nations, the Commonwealth, the N ­ on-​­Aligned Movement, and the Francophone African Summits, where Africa’s roles in global affairs were discussed. Taking advantage of his global prominence, Nkrumah made overtures to older P ­ an-​­Africanists such as Du Bois, who, in the latter part of the twentieth century, nurtured the idea of editing an encyclopedia of Africa designed to “­unite the fragmented world of the African Diaspora, a Diaspora created by the European slave trade.”13 Right from its inception at the turn of the twentieth century, the encyclopedia project suffered several setbacks, including lack of financial support, prompting abandonment. However, the project was revived when Nkrumah, as the president of independent Ghana, invited Du Bois to his country in 1962 and provided the academic environment and resources for Du Bois to work on it.14 Du Bois, however, was unable to complete the work as he died a year later. Nevertheless, the project continued, but was again aborted when Nkrumah’s government was overthrown in 1966. In his last book, Revolutionary Path, Nkrumah lamented the delay in the project when he said, “­had it not been for the reactionary coup of February 1966, the first volumes might have been already providing information to those studying Africa.”15 The Encyclopedia Africana was eventually published with three volumes appearing between the 1970s and 1980s.16 A major focus of the encyclopedia, according to Kwame Anthony Appiah and Henry Louis Gates, Jr., was to “­u nite the fragmented world of the African Diaspora” and to infuse the African and African Diaspora knowledge systems into an African perspective.17

Black Activism, Emergence and Development of Africana Studies  69

Du Bois was not the only black scholar to come to Ghana at the instance of Nkrumah. Indeed, there was a host of them from the United States and the Caribbean. Many of them took up teaching positions at the University of Ghana, Legon. This was the country’s first institution of higher learning established in 1948 as the University College of the Gold Coast, an affiliate of the University of London. These expatriate scholars became instrumental in propagating Nkrumah’s ­Pan-​­A frican ideas. Apart from scholars, many diasporan blacks paid solidarity visits to Ghana in recognition of Nkrumah’s stature as a champion of the black cause. One of the most prominent of these personalities was the ­pan-​­Africanist George Padmore, who eventually headed the Bureau of African Affairs (­BAA), an organ of Nkrumah’s administration which published The Spark, a monthly tabloid devoted to promoting Nkrumah’s policies.18 Others were the famous poet and civil rights activists Maya Angelou; Black Power Movement icon Malcolm X; world heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali; and the most recognized leader of the civil rights movement Martin Luther King, Jr. Nkrumah’s advocacy for academic study of Africa led to the establishment of the Institute of African Studies at Legon in 1961, which introduced curricular in core humanities courses. In particular, African languages were emphasized, providing students the opportunity to study languages other than Latin and Greek, traditionally taught by the university. In addition, courses in the physical science and agriculture began to have an African orientation.19 In recognition of Nkrumah’s contribution to the intellectual study of Africa, in 2005, the Institute of African Studies endowed a professorial chair named the Kwame Nkrumah Chair in African Studies.20 Nkrumah’s penchant for the study of Africa was demonstrated in December 1962 when he hosted the First International Conference of Africanists in his capital Accra. At the ­one-​­week event attended by ­fi fty-​­five notable scholars and Africanists from all over the world, Nkrumah proposed a new methodology for the study of Africa. The president challenged the audience of “­d istinguished scholars” representing “­professors of universities and academics” from “­various fields and branches of learning,” meeting “­w ithin the ramparts of an African University” to “­fi nd out the truth about Africa…and proclaim it to the world.”21 His welcome speech, a profound understanding of African history, was, indeed, a clarion call for a new paradigm for African Studies. He noted: In rediscovering and revitalizing our cultural and spiritual heritage and values, African Studies must help to redirect this new endeavor. The educational system which we devise today must equip us with the resources of a personality and a force strong enough to meet the intensities of the African presence and situation…African Studies is not a kind of academic hermitage…It should change its course from anthropology to sociology, for it is the latter which more than any other aspect creates the firmest basis for social policy…It is incumbent upon all Africanists scholars, all over the

70  Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

world to work for a complete emancipation of the mind from all forms of domination, control and enslavement…22 The Negro Digest aptly described the conference as “­h istoric” and marking “­a high point in developing new perspective on the history of the ‘­Dark Continent.’”23 The Accra conference also emphasized, as integral part of Africana Studies, the importance of writing books that would reflect African identity and cultures, languages, history, geography, and other disciplines, including the sciences. The communiqué that came out of the conference thus recommended the establishment of “­National History Societies, or History Sections within existing scientific or cultural bodies.”24 It also proposed that these societies publish “­h istorical journals which would present the work of their members, the results of recent research in the field of history and archaeology as well as old scientific writings which are out of print.”25 The conference was instrumental to the establishment of departments or specialized institutes for the study of Africa in a number of African institutions. Apart from the Institute of African Studies at Legon, founded through Nkrumah’s efforts, the Institute of African Studies at the University of Ibadan, Nigeria, founded a year later, became another leading center on the continent for the study of Africa. Perhaps, Nkrumah’s most notable contribution to African Studies is in economic development. Postcolonial economic problems in Africa greatly influenced his writings. A major contribution to Africa’s economic study is his ­Neo-​­Colonialism, the Last Stage of Imperialism, a profound work, although borrowing extensively from the Latin American model of dependency theory popularized by scholars such as Paul Baran, Andre Gunder Frank, Raul Prebisch, Celso Furtado, Theotonio dos Santos, Fernando Henrique Cardoso, and James D. Cockcroft. This theory itself articulates the indispensability of incorporating the history of colonial domination and the division of labor imposed on the colonized peoples into an analytical framework. It also highlights the role of unequal exchange relations between developed capitalist countries and underdeveloped countries as a significant contributory factor to stagnation in the latter.26 Over the years, this theory had undergone modifications, but its importance lies on the analysis of the unequal relationship between the s­o-​­called developed and underdeveloped nations. Nkrumah contended in ­Neo-​­Colonialism that neocolonialism had taken a global dimension and was no longer a preserve of Latin American countries.27 Nkrumah thus warned African countries to avoid the Latin American experience, noting that neocolonialism was the worst form of imperialism.28 Given the colonial and postcolonial history of exploitation of Africa, Nkrumah’s neocolonial theory became an important concept in African Studies and influenced Africanists such as Basil Davidson, Jack Woddis, Walter Rodney, Samir Amin, Colin Leys, Claude Ake, and Timothy Shaw, who applied the theory to reflect the neocolonial global dispensation.29 The postcolonial historiography on

Black Activism, Emergence and Development of Africana Studies  71

development and underdevelopment in Africa is defined largely by the dependency theory.

Nkrumah, the Black Militancy Movement, and Africana Studies Ghana’s independence in 1957 and Nkrumah’s electric personality, especially as a revolutionary leader who had led his country out of colonial oppression to freedom, attracted robust appreciation of the continent. As mentioned earlier, some African Americans, many of whom were civil rights activists who wanted to expand their knowledge of Africa, relocated to Ghana in the early 1960s. In the United States, the history of race relations had always revolved around the search for identity. For African Americans, Du Bois had noted that they were subject to what he called “­­double-​­consciousness,” meaning they were conscious of their Americanness and Africanity at the same time.30 However, historically, African Americans had always been racially oppressed, denied civil and legal rights and opportunities including gainful employment, good living standard, and quality education.31 A major ­by-​­product of the black’s civil rights struggle in the United States was the emergence of Black Studies. Indeed, an important component of the struggle was the demand by young African Americans for the teaching of African history and culture in the American school system. Black peoples’ struggles for the reevaluation of their place in global studies had begun, however, before the 1960s. Indeed, by the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, a few eminent black scholars and activists such as George Washington Williams, Du Bois, and Carter G. Woodson had begun to shape academic curricula through publications and scholarly organizations. These efforts began to yield results as Black Studies expanded in the twentieth century with the emergence of the civil rights movement and the independence movement on the continent.32 From Du Bois’ interest in P ­ an-​­Africanism to Marcus Garvey’s intervention through the Universal Negro Improvement Association (­U NIA), African Americans were motivated to demand an education that would correctly locate blacks in the history of human development. Although black militancy movement in the United States essentially derived from internal experiences of black powerlessness, it readily identified with Nkrumah’s revolutionary ideas. Black activists in the United States such as Carmichael, and in the United Kingdom such as Egbuna rejected the programs and policies of the old activists such as integration, litigations, and nonviolent actions. Their militancy was partly derived from their familiarity with Nkrumah’s works on colonialism, imperialism, racism, and neocolonialism.33 For many years, both Carmichael and Egbuna played prominent roles in the activities of the Black Power Movement and its quest for political and educational rights of African Americans. An important component of Nkrumah’s philosophy of education was that studies about Africa must play at liberation for black people by producing

72  Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

authentic knowledge about the people. Nkrumah’s writings provided an intellectual platform for the demand of the Black Power Movement for academic study of black history and culture in American colleges. Incensed by the inequality in the American educational system, the late 1960s had seen the rise of the Black Power Movement as an offspring of the students’ protests. The movement adopted Nkrumah’s academic strategies toward black emancipation. As earlier noted, the 1962 conference of ­Pan-​­Africanists in Accra, Ghana, advocated interdisciplinary approach to the study of African history. This approach, according to Nkrumah, would open new vistas in the study of African documents written in African languages, encourage the use of oral traditions, and archaeological discoveries, among others, in Africana studies.34 Nkrumah’s ­Pan-​­A fricanist advocacy further provided a new perspective for the study of African history in the United States.35 Through its insistence on the inclusion of African culture and the history of the black experience in the school curriculum, the black militancy movement helped to define the direction of Black Studies in America. Black Power advocates demanded for “­a more accurate, relevant representation of the lives and experiences of the African world”36 in American institutions. Before then, the black experience in the United States had not been adequately expressed to reflect their aspirations and prospects in a ­multi-​­cultural society such as theirs. Thus, the Black Power Movement rejected stereotypes in African American experiences and called for their inclusion in the educational system to reflect the plurality of the American society.37 This adoption of Black Studies as an academic discipline was spearheaded by the Black Students Union at San Francisco State College, which had between 1963 and 1968 integrated Black Power with ­Pan-​­African ideology. The institution’s black students fought doggedly and successfully for the inclusion of studies about black people in relevant disciplines. San Francisco State College emerged to become the first college in America “­to give substance to the concept of Black Studies.”38 Black protests, in the long run, attracted the attention of many institutions in the United States such as Cornell University, the University of California at Los Angeles, and Yale University, which began to grant graduate degrees in Africana Studies. In 1988, Temple University instituted the first doctoral program in Africana Studies in the United States. Furthermore, in order to expand the focus of the emerging Black Studies in America, scholars such as Molefi K. Asante advocated a new paradigm called Afrocentricity “­which implies that the life experiences of African and A ­ frican-​­descended people should be the c­ enter-​­piece of any black studies research.”39 Consequently, between the 1970s and 1980s, the interdisciplinary approach in historical writing, which Nkrumah had particularly suggested at the 1962 Conference of ­Pan-​­Africanists, had been adopted by American scholars.40 Even while in exile in Guinea, after he had been deposed from power in February 1966, Nkrumah continued to be an inspiration to the black revolutionary movement in America and in the United Kingdom. When he was asked to be a patron of the movement by its leadership

Black Activism, Emergence and Development of Africana Studies  73

in America, he readily accepted and expressed his readiness to stand behind its endeavors.41 Thus, he provided a link between the black militancy communities in Africa and America. This was a time when Africa was already embroiled in a lot of turmoil such as coup d’états, civil wars, Cold War manipulation, and racial oppression in Southern Africa.42

Black Revolution: Carmichael, Egbuna, and Nkrumah Stokely Carmichael and Obi Egbunam were two of Nkrumah’s notable protégées in the Black Power Movement. Carmichael, later known as Kwame Ture, born in Trinidad and Tobago, was a revolutionary figure in the American Black Power Movement of the late 1960s. He attended Howard University, where he graduated in Philosophy and Sociology, and later founded the Lowndes County Freedom Organization that used the symbol of a panther. In May 1966, he was elected the National Chairman of the Students Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (­SNCC), from where he made the call “­Black Power.”43 Carmichael espoused a twin ideological of Black Power and P ­ an-​­Africanism resulting from global oppression of black people. The Black Power Movement was also active, although to a lesser degree, in the United Kingdom, where Egbuna, a Nigerian immigrant student, represented its face. Carmichael had been largely instrumental in planting the movement in the United Kingdom. Indeed, Egbuna’s activism was deeply influenced by Carmichael’s ideas. Both men had met in the summer of 1967, when the latter visited London to participate in the Dialects of Liberation Congress. According to Egbuna, it was at this meeting that Black Power ideology got a footing in Britain.44 Egbuna was immediately taken in after listening to Carmichael’s speech at the conference which he described as “­one of the best speeches I ever heard Stokely make…”45 Egbuna’s black power activism earned him an arrest in 1968 and a jail time for an alleged plot to murder six London policemen. His incarceration provoked global demonstrations for his release.46 Egbuna was soon elected chairman of the Universal Coloured People’s Association, which was the British organ of the Black Power Movement.47 Egbuna relived his experience as a black power advocate when he wrote that many young men and women strolled along British towns “­in long, bright colored dress… [mainly in] danshikis and bubas” in order to salute black consciousness.48 In many institutions in Britain, he further wrote, many books on Africa were displayed with signs such as “­Black is beautiful,” pasted on many unnamed institutions in Britain. Carmichael and Egbuna’s black militancy was largely influenced by Nkrumah’s revolutionary writings. In 1968, Nkrumah published his landmark book Handbook of Revolutionary Warfare, which helped to promote the Black Power Movement. The text advocated the formation of a ­Pan-​­African party known as ­A ll-​­African People’s Revolutionary Party (­A APRP). In 1968, Carmichael arrived in Guinea to become an organizer of this party.49 While in Guinea, he had deep

74  Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

discussions with Nkrumah on the importance of the AAPRP as a ­Pan-​­African political party formed to be inclusive of all peoples of African descent and to address their major political and economic problems.50 This Party came to be helpful in spreading Nkrumah’s ­Pan-​­African ideas and the establishment of a political dimension to ­Pan-​­Africanism, which became a major theme in Black Studies. Egbuna’s books, such as Destroy This Temple: The Voice of Black Power in Britain (­1971) which he wrote while in prison and The ABC of Black Power Thought (­ 1978), deeply encapsulated Nkrumah’s influence on his own philosophical thought and development. In the second book, Egbuna acknowledged this by dedicating it to Nkrumah in the following words: “­To My Master Tutor, and now Patron Saint, Osagyefo Kwame Nkrumah.”51 Indeed, Nkrumah came to be a father figure to Egbuna. The great P ­ an-​­Africanist was quite conversant with Egbuna’s black revolutionary leadership in Britain. On one occasion, he paid tribute to Egbuna for helping to “­awaken the black people of Britain to the full realization of their revolutionary potential.”52

Conclusion This chapter has examined Nkrumah’s role in the development of African Studies in Africa and his influence on the consolidation of Black Studies in the United States. His insistence on the connection between Africans and their Diasporan cousins in this struggle endeared him to activists and students from America and Britain who saw him as a teacher, a mentor, and a leader. Carmichael and Egbuna were among Nkrumah’s followers. Carmichael and Egbuna provided a link in the understanding of black activism in the United States, Britain, and Africa. In this context, it is appropriate to state that Kwame Nkrumah’s role in the formulation, writing, and teaching of Africana Studies were in line with the aspirations of the philosophy and revolutionary views of black activists between 1957 and 1998.

Notes 1 On Nkrumah’s notion of the African Personality, see ­Adu-​­Boahen Kofi, “­Ghana and the African Personality,” Pakistan Horizon 16(­4), 1963: ­324–​­32. 2 For details, see, Russell L. Adams, Great Negroes: Past and Present (­Chicago, IL: ­A fro-​­Am Publishing Company, 1984); Tony Martin, Race First: The Ideological and Organizational Struggles of Marcus Garvey and the Universal Negro Improvement Association (­Dover: The Majority Press, 1986); Colin Legum, Pan Africanism a Short Political Guide (­New York: Fredrick A. Praeger Publishers, 1965), ­13–​­37; Olisanwuche Esedebe, ­Pan-​­Africanism: The Idea and Movement, ­1776–​­1963 (­Washington: Howard University Press, 1982), ­1–​­110; Gabriel K. Osei, African Contribution to Civilization (­L ondon: the African Publication Society 1973); Vernon Mekay, Africa in World Politics: A Comprehensive Report on Africa’s Contacts with Europe, Asia and the Americas (­New York: McFadden Books, 1964), ­88–​­123. 3 See Kwame Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path (­L ondon: Panaf, 1973), ­429–​­34; Kwame Nkrumah, The Struggle Continues (­L ondon: Panaf, 2006), 1­ 3–​­18: Obi B. Egbuna, The Murder of Nigeria (­L ondon: Panaf, 1968), 1.

Black Activism, Emergence and Development of Africana Studies  75

4 Kwame Nkrumah, “­Colonial and Subject Peoples of the World Unite,” cited in Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path, ­14–​­41. 5 Nkrumah, I Speak of Freedom: A Statement of African Ideology (­New York: Frederick A. Praeger, Publishers, 1962), ­103–​­4 and ­166–​­67. 6 Ibid., 125. 7 Nkrumah, I Speak of Freedom, 125. 8 For details, see Basil Davidson, Black Star: A View of the Life and Times of Kwame Nkrumah (­Oxford: James Currey, 2007), 36. 9 Ibid., 37. 10 For details, see Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path, ­421–​­34. 11 See Kwame Nkrumah, African Must Unite (­L ondon: Panaf, 1974), 49. 12 Ibid. 13 For details, see Kwame Anthony Appiah and Henry Louis Gates, Jr., “­Introduction: An Encyclopedia of the African Diaspora,” in Kwame Anthony Appiah and Henry Louis Gates, Jr. (­eds.), Africana: The Encyclopedia of the African American Experience (­New York: Basic Gvitas Books, 1999), ­ix–​­xvi; Raph Uwechue et  al. (­eds.), Africa Today (­L ondon: Africa Books Ltd, 1996), 778; Raph Uwechue, Makers of Modern Africa: Profiles in History (­L ondon: Africa Books Ltd, 1991), 564. 14 Cited in Appiah and Gates Jr., “­Introduction: An Encyclopedia of the African Diaspora,” in Appiah and Gates Jr. (­eds.), Africana: The Encyclopedia of the African American Experience, ix. 15 Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path, 206. 16 Appiah and Gates, Jr., “­Introduction: An Encyclopedia of the African Diaspora,” ­i x–​­x vi. 17 Ibid., ­i x–​­x vi. 18 For an analysis of the organization, see Joseph Justice Turton Mensah, “­The Bureau of African Affairs in the Kwame Nkrumah Administration from ­1951–​­1966 with a (­descriptive) Guide to its Archives,” MPhil Thesis, University of Ghana, Legon, 1990. See also Uwechue, et al. (­eds.), Africa Today, 778, and Uwechue, Makers of Modern Africa, 564. 19 See Kwame Nkrumah, I Speak of Freedom, 103. 20 “­Kwame Nkrumah Chair,” University of Ghana, Institute of African Studies, retrieved February 5, 2020, at https://­ias.ug.edu.gh/­content/­­k wame-­​­­n krumah-​­chair 21 For the full address, see Kwame Nkrumah, “­The Recovery of African History,” Negro Digest XII(­6), April 1963: ­89–​­97. 22 Ibid. See also Lalage Bown and Michael Crowder (­eds.), The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists, Accra ­ 11th–​­ 18th December 1962 (­Evanston, IL: ­North-​­Western University Press, 1964). 23 Nkrumah, “­The Recovery of African History,” 89. 24 Ibid. 25 Cited in Bown and Crowder, The Proceeding, 353. 26 Syed, “­Dependency Theory,” 202. 27 For details, see Kwame Nkrumah, N ­ eo-​­Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism (­L ondon: Panaf, 1974), xvii. 28 Ibid., xi. 29 Some of the works of these scholars include Basil Davidson, Let Freedom Come: Africa In Modern History (­Boston, MA: Little, Brown and Company, 1978); Jack Woddis, Introduction to ­Neo-​­Colonialism: The New Imperialism in Asia, Africa and Latin America (­New York: International Publishers, 1971);Walter Rodney, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (­L ondon: ­Bogle-​­L’ Overture, 1982); Samir Ammin, Accumulation on a World Scale: A Critique on the Theory of Underdevelopment (­New York: Monthly Review Press, 1974); Calude Ake, A Political Economy of Africa (­L ondon: Longman, 1981); Colling Leys, Underdevelopment in Kenya (­L ondon: Heinemann, 1975). 30 See W. E. B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk (­Greenwich: A Fawcett Premier Book, 1961), ­16–​­17.

76  Bernard Steiner Ifekwe

31 See Michael Weber, Causes and Consequences of the African American Civil Rights Movement (­L ondon: Evans Brothers, 1997), ­52–​­53, and Vivienne Sanders, Race Relations in the USA Since 1990 (­L ondon: Hodder and Stoughton, 2000), ­110–​­32. 32 See Alfred F. Young and Leonard W. Levy, “­Forward,” in August Meier, Elliot Rudwick, and Francis L. Broderick (­eds.), Black Protest thought in the Twentieth Century (­Indianapolis, IN: The ­Bobbs-​­Merrill Company, 1978), V. 33 For details, see Nkrumah, The Struggle Continues, ­13–​­14, ­30–​­31, ­36–​­43. 34 Bown and Crowder (­eds.), The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists, 6. 35 See John A. Rowe, “­Major Themes in African History,” in John N. Paden and Edward W. Soja (­eds.), The African Experience Vol. 1: Essays (­Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1970), 154. 36 G. K. Osei, “­Black Studies,” in Williams (­ed.), The African American Encyclopedia, Volume 1, 177. 37 For details, see the following: Stokely Carmichael and Charles V. Hamuton, “­ Institutional Racism and Colonial Status of Blacks,” in Richard C. Edwards, Michael Reich and Thomas E. Weisskopf (­eds.), The Capitalist System: A Radical Analysis of American Society (­Hoboken, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1972), ­290–​­97; Stokely Carmichael, “­Black Power,” in Kar Wright (­ed.), The ­African–​­American Experience: Black History and Culture (­New York: Black Dog and Leventhal Publishers, 2009), 5­ 71–​­74; Obi B. Egbuna, Destroy This Temple: The Voice of Black Power in Britain (­New York: William Morrow, 1971), Obi B. Egbuna, The ABC of Black Power thought (­Lagos: Third World First Publications, 1978); Obi B. Egbuna, The Rape of Lysistrata (­Enugu: Fourth Dimension Publishers, 1980).
 38 William Barlow and Peter Shapiro, An End to Silence: The San Francisco State Student Movement in the’60s, (­New York: Pegasus, 1971), ­126–​­27. 39 Osei, “­Black Studies,” 179. 40 Rowe, “­Major Themes in African History,” in Paden and Soja (­eds.), The African Experience, 1, ­154–​­76. 41 See Nkrumah, The Struggle Continues, ­13–​­14. 42 Ibid., 14. 43 Stokely Carmichael, “­­Pan-​­Africanism,” in Robert Chrisman and Nathan Hare (­eds.), ­Pan-​­Africanism (­New York: The ­Bobbs-​­Merrill Company, 1974), 9. 44 Obi Egbuna, Destroy This Temple: The Voice of Black Power in Britain (­New York: William Morrow, 1971), 16. 45 Ibid. 46 See Douglas Killam and Ruth Rowe (­eds.), The Companion of African Literatures (­Oxford: James Currey, 2000), ­91–​­92. 47 Obi Egbuna, The Murder of Nigeria: An Indictment (­L ondon: Panaf, 1968). 48 Egbuna, Destroy This Temple, ­50–​­51. 49 Gayle T. Tate, “­Black Power Movement,” in Michael W. Williams (­ed.), The African American Encyclopedia, Volume 1 (­New York: Marshall Cavendish, 1993), 175. 50 Kibibi ­Mack-​­Williams, “­Carmichael, Stokely,” in Michael W. Williams (­ed.), The African American Encyclopedia, Volume 1 (­New York: Marshall Cavendish, 1993), 276. 51 Egbuna, The ABC of Black Power Thought, i. 52 Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path, 432.

5 THE LOCAL AND THE GLOBAL Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa Dele Layiwola

Introduction This chapter examines methodology and the discipline of African Studies both from the perspective of field gathering and classroom impartation of knowledge. It conceives of African Studies as both a discipline and a method, which allows the scholar to choose between alternatives in the process of knowledge creation, appropriation and application for human and national development. The second part of the chapter contextualizes knowledge or data gathering in a particular history of Africa but geography of the world. The enunciation is justified in the tripartite schema that Paulin Hountondji creates for knowledge appropriation in a postcolonial context.1 Africanist research and fieldwork oscillates between the collection and application of data. But the middle ­link—​­the interpretation or engagement of ­data—​­is extroverted to regions outside Africa. This is the basis of the ‘­scientific’ and technological gap in the knowledge systems of Africa. The chapter concludes by asking how the knowledge appropriation systems of t­ wenty-­​­­first-​­century Africa would overcome this deficiency in the face of global and economic pressures. The chapter believes that solution would most likely come from reinvented rather than derived methodologies. The gaps that are presently apparent are not in the lack of genuine knowledge production or the lack of capacity for knowledge capitalization. Rather, there is a genuine lack of willingness to create the tools and capacity for knowledge creation. Knowledge representation is as important as knowledge capitalization for true decolonization in the postcolony and their metropolis.

The Invention of African Studies The methodological classification of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, which first emerged as ethnological and area studies or the studies of cultures DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-7

78  Dele Layiwola

other than one’s own, infers that the precursor of African Studies is the classification of cultures. There is a subtle semantic distinction here to what Clifford Geertz refers to in his book titled The Interpretation of Cultures.2 To enable us unearth how the local and the global were invented, we must go through the ideological roots of how the Third World became a subject of historical or sociological study. The invention of Africa and her area studies is also synonymous or synchronous with the invention of a Third World hierarchy differentiated from an original and prosperous two. It is the same notion that invented the concept of underdevelopment. As Peter Worsley observes, underdevelopment is a relative concept. It does not mean that certain societies are undeveloped, except only in relation to some other societies in the industrialized world. After all, each society has grown through several thousands of years of historical development. He avers: When Europeans first arrived in Africa and the Americas, they often found themselves dealing with societies whose level of economic development and cultural sophistication were superior or equal to anything Europe could show. Their underdevelopment, today, is not a natural condition, but an unnatural one, a social state which is the product of history: not a passive condition, but the consequence of conscious action; not something that just happened, governed by the logic of an impersonal system, but something that was done to people by other people…3 Our understanding of underdevelopment is therefore broad, a combination of political and economic action by those who conquered and those who were conquered. The conquest and resettlement of new worlds, the extension of the frontiers of erstwhile independent and tributary ­n ation-​­states began what turned out to be a worldwide system of society in broad multicultural and multiracial terms. Unfortunately, the notion of conquest always partitions the resulting society into the conqueror and the conquered. Worse still, it resulted in the creation of colonies and vassal states which represent the end of ‘­Utopia’ and the age of ‘­innocence’. This is what Stavrianos and Worsley have both termed a ‘­g lobal rift’ between the imperial nations and the colonies. Politically, the colonies had to be subjugated and a new structure of governance set up. In many cases, ethnicities and culturally disparate groups had to be conflated and welded together as they had not experienced before. In the words of Stavrianos, the Third World has come of age in giving accounts of their new realities.4 Two salient facts, which cannot be swept under the carpet or forgotten, are that the ‘­First World’ had undergone the crucial developmental phase of the industrial revolution which the Third World had not. The second is that sequel to that revolution; the West had invented superior munitions and firepower which Africa did not have. Viewed in political terms alone, there is a dialectical relationship in which one part of the world is a master and the other is a slave or, to borrow Sartre’s phrase, a

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  79

world neatly demarcated into ‘­five hundred million MEN and one thousand five hundred million NATIVES. The former had the word; the other had the use of it. Between the two there were hired kinglets, overlords and a bourgeoisie from beginning to end, which serve as ­go-​­betweens.’5 But viewed in socioeconomic terms as Sartre has done here, there are three w ­ orlds—​­a third at the bottom. This weakest link of the tripod is the supplier of raw materials and labor for fueling the growth of the two other worlds. This is the hypothetical center for the Area Studies project. That Area Studies project was the precursor of the African(­a) Studies project which, in turn, is the logical base for the African Studies curricula of the new world, that crucial satellite without a defined orbit. Thus emerged the spur for ­self-​­reexamination in the context of our knowledge industry and research centers. The search for the indigenization of knowledge structures and their apprehension is therefore a sine qua non for the authentic growth and meaningful developments. The consequences of conquest, slavery and colonialism invested the colonies with organs of political control and economic exploitation that is difficult to separate from racial reconstruction and ideological justifications for what has become the status quo in subjugated societies. Though the societies under bondage had a desideratum of indigenous governance and social order, the writings and projection bear the interpretation of the conqueror. The imputation of dominance was glaring and had its own methodology. Even where institutions of the native communities were peculiar and superior, they must be ideologically subordinated such that they are not perceived as ‘­subversive’ to the tastes and authorities of the empire. In any case, ­empires—​­indigenous or ­foreign—​­are always sustained by their own epics and mythologies. The story told by a hunter is always that of the conqueror until the game lives to retell its own narrative. It is the very same with the early history of Area and African Studies. This is how Peter Worsley puts it: Histories of colonialism written by imperialists ignore one of these terms: history is the story of what the White man did. Nationalist historiography has developed a contrary myth: a legend of ‘­national’ resistance which omits the uncomfortable fact of collaboration.6 Essentially, each civilization, whether Aztec, Peruvian, Abyssinian or Indian, must tell its own story to complete or complement the true cycle of its knowledge industry and knowledge capitalization. It is this processual stage of knowledge that invents and affirms the integrity of nations without which Africa will remain a continent of communities which are incapable of modernization. This is the raison d’etre for the invention of African Studies and the weaning off of Area Studies. The beginning of the courageous attempt at the domestication of ­self-​­knowledge and reflexive accountability is what gave birth to the concept and nomenclature of African Studies within African universities in the context of African nations.

80  Dele Layiwola

There is a surfeit of literature and analyses of the colonial condition that are justifiable in the extent to which they choose to appropriate their historical parameters or references. It is true that there is historical virtue in periodicity, especially if dates and time limits gate it. However, I completely sympathize with the view of Peter Ekeh who is of the opinion that demarcation dates of historiography can become a vice if treated as ends in themselves in regard to social movements.7 If we truly privilege a broad understanding of the history of ideas, I agree with those who have chosen to relate that the roots of colonization actually began with the ­t rans-​­Atlantic slave trade in the aggressive and primitive search for lucre.8 Ekeh, in fact, believes that slavery and colonialism are events in the history of Africa, which have brought such epochal changes in the history of mankind comparable to Industrial and the French Revolutions. Ali Mazrui believed that both slavery and colonialism were clashes between civilizations that generated racial tensions. The force of colonialism was such that it not only encapsulated the activities of individual actors, but also precipitated social changes and structures which transcend the wishes and capacities of individual actors. One of such resultant formation is the wish to understand and redirect the intellectual currents of our peculiar circumstances. These are the resurgence of categories and nomenclatures as African Studies, Postcolonial Studies or Cultural Studies. This classification compels a multidisciplinary approach to history, to facts, concepts, events and, consequently, ideologies. This explains the reason it allies with the phenomenon of culture.

The Primacy of Culture In a conceptual or heuristic understanding of African Studies, there have been strong advocacies that the key, adoptive concept is culture. That it is eminently possible to define the study of Africa as devolution of cultural studies, in and about Africa, Africans and their Diasporas. This is interesting, especially following the arguments in the earlier days of African Studies whether it is not superfluous or tautological to do African Studies in African universities. This is an epistemic conflict between history and its conceptual geographies, the Locus or Center of what constitutes the subject and the object of study. There was a natural retort on what type of African Studies would be done in places outside of Africa where fieldwork would be out of the primary context of study. There is actually no doubt that African Studies are legitimately and genuinely undertaken in centers out of Africa. The same is true of the concept of Oriental studies that is undertaken in fields far away from the orient. One very interesting coincidence is that before the convocation of the International Congress of Africanists in December 1962, African Studies used to be classified in an omnibus recipe with Oriental Studies. Again, in an ironic sense, Hountondji’s point is locus classicus, in that there is an imaginative conception; the true study of the people and their continent is outsourced or legitimately extroverted. It is comprehensive to conceive of culture, in its broad category, as consisting of three dimensions of:

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  81

a­ ­b ­c

The cognitive (­in regard to thought) The normative (­in regard to analysis) The conative (­in regard to action or praxis)

This helps us to divest culture of a narrow, ethnic enclave. African Studies is not about black Africans alone and it would be a fallacy to legislate that only persons native to ­sub-​­Saharan Africa could validly study it. Africanists are worldwide in the ranks of historians, social scientists or medical doctors, statisticians and demographers. It is the notion of a broad terrain excavating knowledge on the history, geography and global circumstances of an entire continent and her peoples in relation to other worlds and civilizations around them. In addition, there are migrants, settlers and those who consciously ‘­nativized’ or naturalized. It is often pluralist and, in a Gramscian sense, cosmopolitan. If we use the etymology of the word as a starting point, we are bound to agree with those who say that there are four ways of conceptualizing culture: ­i The elitist with emphasis on superior values by the dominant few ­ii The holistic conceived as a whole way of life and worldview or custom ­i ii The hegemonic seen as injunctions imposed on the majority by the dominant or intellectual class ­iv The pluralist conceived as a melting pot of civilizations and value systems derived from different historical experiences in different communities or even as a gendered concept. The overarching truth about these classifications is the fact that the persistence of culture has guaranteed the survival of human societies and civilizations beyond minted commerce. It has guaranteed stability and confidence that whole populations would not be wiped out before the millenium and that the enculturation of life and living would continue, even if as an article of faith. Culture, therefore, has been the foundation of human survival in all the three worlds.

The Establishment of Modern Universities in West Africa In the fifteenth century, the proliferation of universities began in Europe within a fairly uniform cultural milieu under the Catholic Church. It was after the reformation (­begun by Luther in 1517 and the deepening nationalism which followed it) that pressure emerged for diversification among European universities. In the sixteenth century began the wave of transplantation of universities outside Europe to the Americas and to Africa.9 These movements fall into three categories: ­i Those inspired by church and kings as in Latin America ­ii Those organized by emigrants as in North America ­iii Those requested by governments or colonies as in India and Africa, or imported as in Japan and Australia.

82  Dele Layiwola

An ancient Sudanese proverb, also cited by Ashby, runs thus: ‘­Salt from the north, gold from the south and silver from the white man’s country; but the word of God and the treasures of wisdom are to be found in Timbuktu’. In the present age, there is no longer a university in the mosque of Sankore in Timbuktu. The two other African/­Islamic universities in North Africa, the Qarawiyin Madrassa in Fez and the ­A l-​­Azhar in Cairo, subsequently metamorphosed into ­European-​ s­ tyle universities with facilities and schools in Business Studies and Engineering. Through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, modern universities in Africa had no longer had roots in any indigenous system of education. They were focused on ­Western-​­style educational systems transplanted, sometimes wholesale, from their original scion. The British and French colonies of West Africa, at the instance of missionaries, pioneered the new system. The pattern appeared later in East and central Africa. It was only after the First World War that colonial governments started to pay attention to the agitations in the colonies for institutions of higher learning. Both nationalists and patriots in the colonies felt that Western education would guarantee their upward mobility in the newfangled public service and governance structure. It would also prepare them for succession when the colonial masters eventually left the colonies at the inception of ­self-​­government. Essentially, there were two levels of education anticipated at independence: one that would equip the postcolonial peoples with the tools of life and public institution which colonialism bequeathed to the new nations and the other would be to truly develop the citizenry as Africans of the new age. This second ideal was the reason for the setting up of the Institute of African Studies by Africans for their enlightened ­self-​­interest. Eric Ashby got the gist of it when he says, inter alia: There was no official policy for higher education in any of the British dependencies in tropical Africa before that time. But when planning began in the colonial office shortly afterwards, it was against the background of a significant evolution of policy towards the lower level of education in West Africa; and also in the face of two unofficial and contrasting patterns of higher education there: one actual but stagnating, provided by the missionaries; the other still hazy and unrealized, but forward looking and of the future, which the Africans themselves had set as their goal.10 Then came the influence of Edward Blyden from Sierra Leone from 1872 through 1876, when Fourah Bay was established as a college of the University of Durham. I have taken some liberty to lean on the authoritative account of Eric Ashby here, with appropriate extrapolations, for the narratives on the development of postcolonial universities in British West and East Africa. His, like many dispassionate accounts, might not have captured the real feelings of the indigenes or ­so-​­called natives, but his style chronicles much of the details. One interesting difference between the establishment of schools in Africa and in India ought to be highlighted here. The East India Company met a society

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  83

with a highly developed tradition of ancient scholarship which compared favorably with British Education. However, African societies, with their varied sophistication in learning, art and culture, were ‘­­pre-​­literate’ and relied largely on oral traditions and hieroglyphics. The East India Company therefore had to cope with greater populations though the funds had to be spent on the higher levels of education. The very few highly trained interpreters were used to effectively disperse education to a greater population from the top down. In Africa, the procedure was the obverse, as education had to be built from the bottom up because of the absence of a formally literate society. It could then be safely assumed that the African was being fed on a totally British education menu. Edward Blyden came forward with the radical prescription of an indigenous West African university. He had earlier discussed the matter with a native member of the legislative council, the Hon. William Grant in May l872, and by December, he made a direct appeal to the a­ dministrator-­​­­in-​­chief, J. Pope Hennessy. The concern here was to secure teachers and teaching materials needed to ­k ick-​­start an educational system adapted to an African environment. In an appeal similar to that made by Wyse for a university in Ireland, he insisted that it was for the government to provide ‘­this means of unfettering the African mind in expiation of past wrongs to the African race.’ Hennessy became sympathetic to the pressures and agreed to support the plea. He not only forwarded his correspondence with Blyden to the colonial office, but he also passionately wrote in favor of establishing a West African university on a small scale. He suggested the use of the former Wesleyan training college on King Tom’s Point as a suitable building which the university could occupy in its earlier years. To get a full backing, he suggested that the proposal should be referred to the governor designate Robert W. Keate. The idea got a favorable hearing at the colonial office and was passed. It was even reported that an erstwhile hostile official, Mr. Kimberly, reported ‘­some shrewd and just observations’ in Blyden’s letters to the extent of discovering in them the very defects Blyden himself attributed to ‘­the engrafting European ideas on a negro mind’ but nevertheless commended it to Keate’s very ‘­careful attention’. It should be interesting to note that Hennessy not only sent his correspondence with Blyden’s to the colonial office but that it should be published in Sierra Leone for public attention. When the Bishop himself returned from leave early in 1873, he found the colonial province discussing the educational issue. He, however, was unhappy about the critical comments on missionary methods and achievements; he and Sunter roundly criticized the proposed establishment of the new university. In fact, they could scarcely bring themselves to regard it as a practical possibility. They queried whether Negroes could run a ­fully-​­fledged university alone? They also queried the idea of a university in which Muslims and Christians would promote a joint curriculum. They campaigned for the upgrade of Fourah Bay, and Sunter offered a detailed memorandum on the new look he thought it required. Because of the Christian character of the college, he was quite prepared to consider special arrangements for the admission of Muslims.

84  Dele Layiwola

He emphasized that the college would need European supervision for many years to come. He stoutly recommended that it should offer a more advanced education than was available at the grammar school to all suitably qualified students who were prepared to pay for it and suggested that the curriculum should be broadened to include Arabic, history and geography, French, German and Spanish and the requisite number of science subjects. If the college prospered on this wider basis, he thought it might then be affiliated so that degrees could be obtained from a university such as London. The scheme was referred to Sierra Leone and unanimously endorsed by the mission conference at Freetown in June 1874. At the beginning of the twentieth century, the leadership advocacy for higher education in British West Africa passed from Blyden of Liberia to the Gold Coast political leader and writer J.E. Casely Hayford. In 1911, Casely Hayford made the case for a West African university on the urgent need of teachers who could divest the focus of the educational system from pursuing a foreign cultural agenda. This was a reiteration of Blyden’s argument over again. But whereas Blyden had wished to strengthen ‘­A frican race consciousness’, Casely Hayford believed that Africans should become nationalists who would work for the emancipation of the continent from colonialism. And the difference was not merely one of terminology. Blyden was not particularly concerned about the African’s political status because in the 1870s he spoke of training the West Africans for eventual ­self-​­government, but in the 1880s, he was quite content with the political subjection of the Muslims of the Western Sudan. He restricted his views to what he conceived to be the prevailing current of British colonial policy. But Casely Hayford wanted to see the African in control of his own political future. He chose to write his manifesto and advocacy as a literary work titled Ethiopia Unbound to sensitize Africans on the need to be consistent and steadfast in the agitation for higher education for the purpose of ­self-​­advancement and national development. It must be observed that initially the official attitude of the colonial government was not as responsive as the indigenous elite would want but this is understandable when the enormous costs for establishing new universities are considered. This is how Eric Ashby chronicled it: The British government had consistently declined to sponsor the various schemes of higher education which the Africans had urged upon it; and it had taken no initiative in the matter itself. But it had not been unsympathetic towards the aspirations of the Africans, and save in the case of the early medical school proposed by Africanus Horton, had disclosed no wish to limit the educational opportunities of the natives. Despite a growing tendency to disparage the African ‘­scholar’ and to view him as a source of friction and discontent, there had been no official disposition either locally or in London, deliberately to withhold the provision of more advanced training. The shadow of the British experience in India had not yet begun to fall on tropical Africa; and the reluctance to embark on schemes of higher education on the West Coast had stemmed quite simply from

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  85

the conviction that limitations of finance and educational progress made it inexpedient. Political factors, however, had also contributed to the official stand. Educational policy had inevitably been attuned to the wider trends of imperial policy, and as the prospects of an early withdrawal from the Coast had ­receded—​­and with them the urgency for training the natives for ­self-­​­­government—​­so the response to appeals for higher education had weakened. Hence the paradox of the cautious interest in the proposal for a West African university in the 1870s, and the impatient rejection of it nearly half a century later.11 The rest of the history as reported in detail by Eric Ashby and Mary Anderson mentioned at least six committee and commission reports: the Currie (­1933) and the Channon (­1941) Committees as well as the reports of the De La Warr (­­1936–​­1937), Asquith (­­1943–​­1945), the Elliot (­­1943–​­1945) and Eiselen (­­1949–​ ­1951) Commissions. The end of the First World War and the support from the Carnegie Corporation of New York, the ­Phelps-​­Stokes Fund and the International Education Board helped with the establishment of the Universities of Makerere, Uganda; Ibadan, Nigeria; and Legon, Ghana. Three more Universities in West and East Africa were then added to Fourah Bay, which was a college of the University of Durham. The three latter universities took off as colleges of the University of London. The American institutions had helped in the face of funding challenges to support the colonial authorities in accommodating the agitations of the new African elites who wanted Western education for their children and wards. Eric Ashby himself headed another Commission, which was later set up in 1959. The remarkable journeys of those three ‘­colonial’ universities became the desideratum and spur for the invention of African Studies in African universities and the attempts at the indigenization of knowledge production and curricular. In fairness, the colonial office and the I­nter-​­University Council on Higher Education in their correspondences reported it had always taken into account the need to adapt the exported universities to the peculiarities of their home environments.12 It will take another ­book-​­length study and account to elaborate on the details of the various efforts by the colonial office, the American funding agencies, the Church Missionary Society and other international bodies and countries that lent support to the ‘­planting’ and growth of those universities in West, Central and East Africa.

­Pan-​­Africanism and Africanist Education in General The point must be made that at the turn of the twentieth century, Africans in the Diaspora, especially in the West Indies and the United States led by the Trinidadian lawyer Sylvester Williams, the Jamaican Nationalist Marcus Garvey, John Archer, W.E.B. Du Bois and others inspired by pioneer P ­ an-​­Africanist intellectuals like Martin Delany, Alexander Crummel and Edward Blyden founded the ­Pan-​­Africanist Movement which galvanized a new awareness and solidarity

86  Dele Layiwola

among Africans worldwide. Their activities served to awaken the interest of Africans to the need for education and the study of African history and culture. After their first congress in London in 1901, which other Africans from the mother continent attended, there was improved agitation for Africans to organize themselves for improved conditions of life as Western societies had done. Before this movement could gather momentum, rumors of the agitations led the governor of Sierra Leone to intervene with the first official proposal for a West African university. In a bold bid to retain Sierra Leone’s lead in higher education, Probyn seized on the financial difficulties of Fourah Bay to suggest that the college should be incorporated as an independent university. After some preliminary consultations, he outlined his proposal in simultaneous communications to the Church Missionary Society and the colonial office in January 1905. Then came the First World War of 1914 and its disruptions and distractions. After the First World War, progress along this path crystalized more definitively. Workers in the Gold Coast and in Southern Nigeria brought higher education and better working conditions on to the platform of their nationalist and patriotic planning and agitation. In April 1907, the governor of Southern Nigeria, Sir Walter Egerton submitted details of a scheme for the establishment of a ‘­Government College’ in Lagos. The proposal was for a day school that would teach to a higher level than the existing secondary schools and bring students to the threshold of university studies. It was designed primarily as a training ground for clerks and for those contemplating a professional career. Preparation for the matriculation and intermediate examinations of the University of London was to be a special feature of its work. The colonial office agreed with the principle of a government secondary school; but it raised two issues in connection on the character it was to assume. This screening appeared to controvert the previous official stand on higher education. The first issue had to do with the nature of the courses to be provided. The colonial office questioned the preponderance of literary training ­v is-­​­­à-​­vis the technical needs of the country. An official of the colonial office observed: The proposed College would, it seems to me, turn out young Africans of the clerk and office class and little more’. ‘­But I have always understood that of this class, the kind of young man who aims at a subordinate post in a government office, there is already a surplus and that this particular brand of educated African is not on the whole a very satisfactory product. I imagined that the real need was for technical and industrial education which would teach the native the ‘­d ignity of labour’ and would ultimately be a far more potent factor in the development of the country than a knowledge of French, Greek and elementary maths or even of letter writing or ­book-​­keeping.13 But Egerton promptly protested and observed that owing to the very rapid development of Southern Nigeria since the beginning of the century, there was,

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  87

in fact, an acute shortage of natives suitably equipped to serve as clerks. An increased supply would meet the country’s most urgent need. It was literary education, therefore, that was the essential want, not technical or industrial training, for which there was adequate provision already. The observation of the inspector of schools Henry Carr, in refuting the alleged effect of a predominantly literary education on the native character, became a cultural advocacy for the colony. He attributed the unattractive traits in the ‘­educated’ African to an insufficiency of cultural training. He was extremely sensitive and intuitive to decipher that behind the official phraseology was the suspicion that a higher literary training would mean a more sophisticated citizenry of nationalists and patriots; hence more political troubles! He promptly canvassed the need for an education that would serve to dispel ignorance of government activities. Carr emphasized the need for a type of secondary education that would develop the acumen of the postcolonial citizens of tomorrow who should be able to govern their country without let or hindrance. He believed that the London matriculation provided the kind of cultural education that was needed to develop the country after the colonial authorities might have handed down the reins of power. Such considerations were tolerated in the colonial office. Secretary of State Lord Crewe and the colonial office thereby supported the teaching of sound English literary education. This was a healthy sign for the establishment for a university providing a liberal education. The second issue believed that higher education could be approached more directly. This had been suggested not by the colonial office itself, but by the board of education to which it had submitted the scheme for comment. This was based on what had happened in India and other parts of the British Empire. After a prolonged discussion, it was finally agreed that whilst special postsecondary classes of a vocational type might be added to the school, the normal goal of students would be the London matriculation, and that the point of entry should be temporarily lowered to provide for a model ­sub-​­secondary department. It was also agreed that both in designation and general organization, its character as a school should be clearly and unambiguously proclaimed. King’s College, Lagos, was finally founded in September 1909. Following the same arguments, Achimota College was founded in Ghana about a decade later. These, however, did not satisfy the thirst for higher education by the new elite in both countries, which needed institutions for training their children and wards at home in the colonies.

The Asquith Colleges No sooner were the Asquith and Elliot reports published than action was taken upon them, in a way which makes the years from 1945 to 1948 stand enduringly on the credit side of the balance sheet of British colonial policy. The i­nter-​ ­university council for higher education in the colonies, which was set up in 1946, was an independent body, ­not—​­as the old advisory committee ­was—​­an official

88  Dele Layiwola

government body. It included representatives from British and colonial university institutions. It settled down with commendable speed to turn the Asquith and Elliot reports into working drawings. The government provided money. The universities provided men and advice. The University of London cooperated splendidly by establishing a scheme of special relationship to give the colonial colleges maximum opportunities for initiative and adaptation within the framework of a London degree. Between 1946 and 1949, the university had entered into this special relationship with colleges in Sudan (­though it was not a British colony), West Indies, Nigeria, the Gold Coast and Uganda. Special relationship was later on extended to the university colleges in Salisbury, Nairobi and in D ­ ar-­​ es-​­ ­­ Salaam. In january1948, 104 students enrolled at University College, Ibadan; in August 1948, 90 students, taken over from Achimota College, at the University College of the Gold Coast. Vigorous and imaginative Englishmen were appointed as principals of these two colleges, a nucleus of keen and able academics was recruited and an ambitious building program was launched. The two other colleges in Africa brought into special relationship with the University of London were Gordon College, Khartoum, and Makerere College, Uganda. Before the Asquith commission published its report, some steps were taken to transform these colleges into institutions of higher education. But for the war, they would have benefited much more from the broad mindedness and the generosity of the De La Warr report of 1937. Gordon College, Khartoum, was admitted into a special relationship in 1946, with 188 students from among whom the first candidates for London degrees would be selected. Makerere College, as foretold by the De La Warr commission, was made an autonomous institution and admitted into a special relationship in 1949.

African Studies at Ibadan University The establishment of the Institute of African Studies at the University of Ibadan in July 1962 and at the University of Ghana, Legon, in 1963 derived directly from the initiative of the International Congress of Africanists. The President and Chairman of its first congress, Professor Kenneth Onwuka Dike, who cooperated with President Kwame Nkrumah, of the Republic of Ghana, to host the Congress in Accra happened to be the first Director of the Institute of African Studies and also the First indigenous ­Vice-​­Chancellor of the University of Ibadan. The vision of the Ibadan Institute, the first on the African continent, tallies with the vision of the founders of the International Congress of Africanists: the indigenization of knowledge in Africa. Professor Conor Cruise O’Brien, ­Vice-​­Chancellor of the University of Ghana, Professor Kenneth Onwuka Dike, ­Vice-​­Chancellor of the University of Ibadan, and President Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, in their respective addresses of welcome to about 450 delegates from over sixty countries of the world emphasized this point. It was like a meeting of the United Nations. A broad range of intellectual ­d isciplines—​­physical, social, human and medical ­sciences—​­was represented at the congress. Chairman of the

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  89

Congress, Kenneth Dike, also Director of the Institute of African Studies already inaugurated at the university of Ibadan in 1962, did remark that for the first time, African Studies which had hitherto been grouped with Oriental Studies by virtue of that congress had become an independent field of intellectual enquiry. It is worth our while to quote him in full: Today is a momentous occasion in the history of the African Continent, when for the first time African scholars and their colleagues from overseas, representing every discipline concerned with African studies, can meet together on African soil to discuss their common problems. Until today, as you all know, on the plane of international scholarship, African studies were grouped together with those of the orient, and there was no separate congress where those interested in Africa and its special problems could meet their fellow scholars. The past few years have seen the accession to independence of the majority of African States; today, with great pride, I welcome you all to what might prove to be a landmark in our efforts to regain our intellectual and cultural independence.14 It is true that the reference to Africa by the Greeks and Romans had been from the first millennium AD, when Eratosthenes and Aristotle traced the migration of the cranes to the source of the Nile River. Thereafter, Strabo and Hanno of Carthage tried to explore it. The curiosity was further stretched by the Arabs and the Chinese who kept records on the kingdoms, art, ceremonies, costumes and architecture of the various kingdoms of Africa. During the Tang dynasty (­A D ­618–​­907), the Chinese published their first historical records of East and Central Africa. The Europeans also showed scientific and intellectual interest in the study of Africa. These early interests were intellectual and objective. Thereafter, the motives can be classified into three: i Mercantilist: a period marked by trade and exploration ii Economic: a period noted for exploitation and the slave trade iii Political: a period marked by political subjugation and colonization According to Kwame Nkrumah, it was from that second period that the study and writings on Africa became unscientific, apologetic and subjective, all in an attempt to justify exploitation, slavery and colonialism.15 One very interesting point for intellectual and epistemic debate is the observation of Kwame Nkrumah that the discipline of Anthropology was used as the ‘­main segment’ and intellectual tool of African Studies Curriculum. Nkrumah believed that we have to transform the study of Anthropology for that of an authentic sociology of Africa. He does have a point given all the racialist slurs and profiling by various European anthropologists. One plea, however, is that the intellectual abuses are not limited to the discipline of anthropology. They are also found in history and philosophy as well as in literature, pharmacology

90  Dele Layiwola

and medicine. I believe that to avoid lopsidedness and methodological slants; and to avoid throwing away the baby with the bathwater, all disciplines should be screened for intellectual sloppiness and racialist indulgence. Most inductive, unscientific assertions masquerading as scholarship are, at best, the result of Area Studies scholarships. Nkrumah strongly believed that African Studies should move away from its traditional reliance on anthropology and switch to sociological analyses instead. Irrespective of historical discipline and period, the issue of race and color line will remain topical for a long time to come. Kenneth Dike did recall, a decade or so before the Africanist congress, of his encounter with a fellow historian and colleague who had opposed the inclusion of African history in the history curriculum at Ibadan on the grounds that the African has no history.16 Nigerian Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka, on the invitation to give a series of lectures on African literature in 1975 at the University of Cambridge, had to be diverted from the English Department to the Anthropology Department on the excuse that there is no such thing as African literature!17 It was auspicious that the inauguration of the Africanization of the degree courses began at the University of Ibadan in 1962. One great thing about the Africanization, as the founding fathers of the Ibadan curriculum suggested it, was that the study of culture should be as widely as is possible across disciplines. It is a multidisciplinary project that will guarantee a comprehensive and uniform review and upgrade of knowledge across board for the total emancipation of learning and research. Indeed, Kenneth Dike nominated delegates from Ibadan to the Accra conference biochemists, pediatricians, historians, agriculturists, economists and political scientists. He hoped the congress would serve to bridge the traditional barriers between the humanities and the pure sciences.18 Another major consideration of the congress was that African Studies is to be considered important from two points of view: first, that of the world at large; second, that of the host continent. It is therefore pertinent that its scope or field of view is considerably wide. In regard to this consideration therefore the issue of minimum, international standards must be adhered to. It is true that the cultures of the continent are rich and diverse; the social, scientific, economic and industrial problems are equally complex and deserve diligent attention in the ­ ell-​­being of the developed regions of the world so as to pursuit of the material w catch up and remain at par with them if we cannot surpass them. We must not lose sight of the question of heritage development, history and culture because in spite of our long history, political independence for many African nations is recent and incomplete. This implication is that many of our countries are young nation states in terms of their evolution. The histories of writing and industrial development have put us at some comparative disadvantage with many Western nations of the world. Recent discoveries about ancient history, philosophy, religion and traditional medicine as well as recent achievements in literature, performance, plastic, metal and visual arts remain areas of strength for further research and consolidation. The call for restitution over works removed from

Sixty Years of African Studies in Africa  91

various artistic and technological sites have revealed treasures which indicate advancement in civilization, in technology, science and art which will put colonial disparagement to shame. Our initial response in 1962 was to establish the basis of fieldwork and field research in the following areas: Archaeology, Anthropological Linguistics, Oral History, Ethnomusicology, Performance, Visual Art History, Anthropology, Religion and Belief Systems, a bilingual Publications/­Translations Unit, a Museum, an Arabic Documentation Centre and an archive of Sound and vision. At the time, these twelve centers became the flagship for the corporeal component for the postgraduate research on African Studies and Culture. There were field vehicles, audio, film and photographic equipments as well as artists and ­w riters-­​­­in-​­residence. There was an oracular historian and an editor. These were supported by a grant from the Ford Foundation. However, it was not until 1999 that we had an edited handbook on our methodology. The handbook is currently being reviewed for upgrading. The Archeology and Anthropology unit was weaned off in 1990 when it had grown to become a f­ ully-​­fledged department as a leading Archeology department in Africa. The department awards both Arts and Science degrees, depending on the student’s specialization and subject combinations. It not only developed a ­degree-​­awarding curriculum to PhD level, it also housed a museum and laboratory having done a number of excavations in major ethnological sites in Nigeria. Through the initiative of Bolanle Awe, the fifth Director of the Institute, a center known as the Women’s Research and Documentation Centre (­WORDOC) in association with the University of Pennsylvania was set up in 1987. The unit has become the nucleus of our Gender Studies program, the first of its kind in the Nigerian university system. In 1995, the University of Ulster, Northern Ireland sought collaboration with the University of Ibadan on its Peace and Conflict Studies program. Though the Faculty of Social Science was deeply involved, the center was housed at the Institute of African Studies from where it was weaned off in 2015 to become a department in the new Faculty of Multidisciplinary Studies. The Institute’s Archive of Sound and Vision houses over 3,000 digital files of field recordings which are now progressively digitized and upgraded with the help of a grant from the University of California under its Modern Endangered Archives Programme (­M EAP) awarded in 2021.

Conclusion The Institute of African Studies at Ibadan is in its sixtieth year in 2022. When it was set up in July 1962, the field reports of researchers were published in a biannual bulletin named African Notes: A Bulletin of the Institute of African Studies. Two years later, in 1964, African Notes was upgraded to the full status of a multidisciplinary journal, which has published over sixty editions of the journal. There are documentary films on aspects of cultural life in Africa. There are bilingual

92  Dele Layiwola

editions of publications and gramophone records that were firsthand recordings from the field. As much as is possible, the institution has kept to the vision of its founding fathers who met in 1962 to set up a foundation for the study of Africa on the continent of Africa. Since then, the International Congress had met on four other occasions: in Dakar in 1967; in Addis Ababa in 1973 where a proposal was made to change the name to International Congress of African Studies (­ICAS); in Kinshasha in 1978; and for the final time at Ibadan in 1985. It is for the same historical reason that the very first biennial International conference of the African Studies Association of Africa (­ASAA) held at the University of Ibadan in 2015.

Notes 1 Pauline J. Hountondji, “­K nowledge Appropriation in a ­Post-​­Colonial Context,” in Catherine A. Odora Hoppers (­ed.), Indigenous Knowledge and the Integration of Knowledge Systems (­Claremont: New Africa Books, 2002), ­23–​­38. 2 Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures (­New York: Basic Books, 1973). 3 Peter Worsley, The Three Worlds: Culture & World Development (­Chicago, IL: Chicago University Press, 1984), 3. 4 L. S. Stavrianos, Global Rift: The Third World Comes of Age (­New York: William Morrow & Co., 1981). 5 ­Jean-​­Paul Sartre, “­Preface,” in Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (­Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1967), 7. Emphasis is mine. 6 Worsley, The Three Worlds, 4. 7 Peter Ekeh, Colonialism and Social Structure (­I badan: Ibadan University Press, 1980), 5. 8 Aime Cesaire, Discourse on Colonialism (­New York: Monthly Review Press, 1955); Ekeh, Colonialism and Social Structure; and Ali Mazrui, Africa in the Shadow of Clash of Civilizations: From the Cold war of Ideology to the Cold War of Race (­Lagos: CBAAC, Occasional Monograph, 8, 2000). 9 Eric Ashby, Universities: British, Indian African: A Study in the Ecology of Higher Education (­L ondon: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1966), 8ff. 10 Ibid., 148. 11 Ibid., 181. 12 Ibid. 13 Ibid., 186. 14 Kenneth Onwuka Dike, “­Address of Welcome to the First International Congress of Africanists,” in Lalage Bown and Michael Crowder (­eds.), The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists (­L ondon: Longmans, 1964), 4. 15 Kwame Nkrumah, “­Address Delivered to Mark the Opening of the First International Congress of Africanists,” in Bown and Crowder (­eds.), The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists (­L ondon: Longmans, 1964), ­6 –​­15. 16 Dike, “­Address of Welcome,” in Bown and Crowder (eds.), The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists (­L ondon: Longmans, 1964), ­4 –​­5. 17 Wole Soyinka, Myth, Literature and the African World (­Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976), ­v ii–​­x ii. 18 Kenneth Onwuka Dike, “­The Importance of African Studies,” in Bown and Crowder (­eds.), The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists (­L ondon: Longmans, 1964), ­19–​­28.

6 SPECIALIZATION OR INTERDISCIPLINARITY? AFRICAN STUDIES IN AFRICA AT A CROSSROADS Chika C. Mba

Introduction The study of Africa in African universities is currently at a crossroads, prompting a reevaluation and sometimes a reconfiguration of the discipline of African Studies in many universities in the continent. Older questions are being raised anew about the institutional location and the domain of authority, legitimacy, and power in the production of knowledge about Africa.1 In South Africa, as the recent push for the decolonization of its academy continues to gain currency, decolonial scholars in South African academy decry what they see as an attempt to stand the revolutionary legacy of African Studies on its head; they express a desire to urgently rescue and return African Studies “­to its roots within the continent itself ” and open up the dialogue in African Studies scholarship, extricating it from the obfuscating “­h ierarchical academic structures … at the core of power inequalities of scholarship in Africa and the West.”2 If the (­South) African academy gets it right, then African Studies is likely to “­become a theoretically invigorating space, nationally and internationally,” ­well-​­positioned, I should add, to push the bounds of the new wave of African revolution against academic imperialism.3 The situation is not very different in Ghana. In the closing pages of her classic essay on the past and present politics of African Studies in Ghana, entitled “­Kwame Nkrumah, African Studies, and the Politics of Knowledge,” Jean Allman regrets that when the bitter politics of negating, subtracting, and rolling back Nkrumah’s legacy and cultural policy on education of the late 1950s and early 1960s were over, even though: the research and teaching missions of the institute [IAS] were largely preserved, its role in generating knowledge and shaping knowledge production DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-8

94  Chika C. Mba

on a global stage was greatly circumscribed and its pedagogical and research agendas shoehorned, if not disciplined, into a narrow ­nation-​­state university.4 Allman wrote nearly a decade ago, but this researcher can attest to the continuing relevance and accuracy of her gloomy assessment and the fact that the challenge of rebuilding the Institute of African Studies (­IAS), University of Ghana to its early p­ ost-​­independence stature, to say nothing of Nkrumah’s expanded vision, has only become more onerous, and the need to do so, very urgent. The general condition Allman describes is simultaneously symptomatic of and intermeshed with the pervasive neoliberal marketization of education in Ghana, beginning in the 1990s. In recent times, apart from grappling with existing tough questions regarding the production of knowledge about Africa, African Studies in Africa must now contend with the new problem of justifying and maintaining the existence of African Studies as an interdisciplinary academic field that at the same time qualifies as a cohesive academic discipline. How do researchers and the management of the IAS, for example, ensure that as a discipline, African Studies remains relevant and “­competitive” given that neoliberal logics of education have taken greater roots in Ghana? One key approach toward achieving disciplinary and contextual relevance, the institute reckons, is through specialization. The problem and proposed solution are not exactly new or restricted to African Studies in Africa. The charge to specialize is a neoliberal requirement for higher education in all disciplines globally, as this is thought to enhance a student’s chances of gaining employment after graduation. Specialization means compartmentalizing or breaking down every field of learning and knowledge production to the traditional disciplines, to courses focusing on particular subject areas or even to specific modules, and students encouraged to become experts in these even smaller units of tertiary education. In the IAS, following feedback from stakeholders, there is currently an institutional effort to guide aspiring graduates of the institute to specialize in any number of the core subject areas that make up the institute. Apart from the mammoth logistical challenges, the dilemma some of my interlocutors during this research anticipate is as follows: If graduates of African Studies are in the end expected to be experts in African history, African politics, or African philosophy, for example, why should students simply not enroll in the mother disciplines and focus on ­A frica-​­centered components of the curricula? In defense of African Studies’ right of existence, one could respond to the presumed dilemma by citing the fundamental benefits of interdisciplinarity in general and in African Studies in particular. After all, apart from the sheer logistical challenges a student would need to overcome trying to take bits and pieces from different disciplines housed in ­far-​­flung buildings on campus, there may be weak commitment to African Studies in many traditional disciplines. If the argument against dismantling African Studies as a ­stand-​­alone interdisciplinary unit succeeds, and I think it does, then the counterargument might inquire about the real issue of finding work

Specialization or Interdisciplinarity?  95

after graduating from African Studies. What is the value of an African Studies certificate in the ­specialty-​­driven (­academic) job market and in the wider competitive economy orchestrated by neoliberal globalization? For graduates who might wish to teach, in which specific disciplines can they be hired? Considering that even in African Studies’ institutes and centers, faculty are frequently hired from the mother disciplines to fill specific areas of need, what then happens to the job seeker brandishing an “­unspecialized” African Studies certificate? My initial response to this would be to say that this need not be either/­or; graduates of an interdisciplinary African Studies are not necessarily jack of all trades, they possess a broad knowledge of what is actually a specialized field of learning. They possess lots of knowledge from different perspectives about one thing: Africa. The problem of hiring is not necessarily an issue that has much to do with either interdisciplinarity or specialization; it is an ideological, economic, and political issue, which I explain some more in the next section. To be sure the problem of job security and career legitimacy for graduates and teachers of African Studies occasioned by the interdisciplinary nature of the discipline is not new. The issue is as old as the very first effort to establish an African Studies department on the continent of Africa. In 1949, K.A. Busia, on learning that he was to become the pioneer lecturer in African Studies at the University College of the Gold Coast, was famously quoted as having retorted even before his arrival to the campus for the first time: “‘­A frican Studies’? We are all in Africa, so we are all studying Africa. I want to be head of a Department of Sociology.”5 In Allman’s estimation, whether Fage’s recollection of Busia’s sentiments was correct or not, Busia’s decision was understandable. It was understandable that Busia would settle for “­the security and legitimacy” of a traditional discipline (­Sociology) “­to avoid what might have been considered the marginal, interdisciplinary space of African Studies.”6 Busia’s career anxieties were especially caused or heightened by the historical context in which there were few African lecturers in the newly established postcolonial university, but current anxieties about job placement and career security, as I have been arguing, are deeply rooted in the general economic condition orchestrated by neoliberalism. Thus, to attempt a complete resolution of these issues, it is necessary to dwell briefly on the neoliberal condition and how it affects education in the specific contexts of Africa and in particular Ghana.

Neoliberalism and Higher Education in Africa Neoliberalism is as much a dominant economic policy agenda as it is “­a powerful and expansive political agenda of class domination and exploitation,” the very manifestation of “­capital resurgent” and the rise of market profit over people.7 It is wielded as a mechanism for the expansion of Western political and economic hegemony, short of direct colonialism. Neoliberal globalization commercializes and marketizes all aspects of planetary existence and social life, including knowledge creation and its multiple applications in diverse s­ocio-​­economic domains,

96  Chika C. Mba

while privileging capital over the human. The catch though is that the “­profit” that accrue from the neoliberal vertical commercial exchange of goods and services, contra neoliberal advocates like Ronald Reagan do not exactly trickle down to the poor or to certain groups and regions of the world. Neoliberalism is a sublimated process of wealth creation that draws resources from the very bottom to the top, favoring those with a vast capital base and abundant ­socio-​­economic power. What this implies is that neoliberalism as foisted on poorer regions of the world is but colonialism in disguise. In the area of education, neoliberalism has gradually but surely downgraded the idea of education as a public good, negating the idea of the university as a place where every kind of knowledge can be pursued, even for its own sake. Education, especially higher education (­in Africa) is now a commodity that its best can be purchased by the highest bidder in their preferred form, with attendant negative effects on the curriculum and the goals of education itself. But how exactly has this happened? How did neoliberalism upturn c­ enturies-​­old idea of the university as a place of universal learning, a space where anyone was free to study anything of their choice? Gyamera and Burke explain the conjunctural moment that birthed the neoliberal upsurge and value usurpation in higher education: The ­over-​­emphasis on the market created by the hegemony of neoliberalism… [beginning in the 1980s] led universities to engage questions of curriculum in relation to notions of ‘­international leadership’, with a focus on effecting ‘­innovation’ in the higher education curriculum to meet ‘­international standards’, compete in the ‘­g lobal market’ and form partnerships with business and industry. In this context of a higher education market, knowledge and knowing are often reduced to the logics of the market and deferring to wider anxieties about global economic competitiveness and positioning in the context of world rankings.8 This phenomenon which took the African universities by storm in the 1980s was not unique to the continent. It was a worldwide affair that followed the remarkable exponential growth of the university in terms of student enrollment and faculty strength and the consequent drive to democratize the university and channel its resources toward the production of societally relevant knowledge. But this drive toward making the university relevant to society “­was turned on its head” by the neoliberal agenda “­to become economic relevance to business and industry in the knowledge society” globally.9 As things stand, students become customers to what have now morphed into corporate universities, placed under the firm control of “­senior managements.” The idea of “­senior management” needs to be given a little more attention here. For it flows from what Lorenz describes as the New Public Management (­N PM) in the neoliberal dispensation. What the NPM comes down to in practice for Mike Dent and Jim Barry, as reported by Lorenz, and which is relevant to the issue of specialization in the university is as follows:

Specialization or Interdisciplinarity?  97

(­1) increasing the breakup of public sector organizations into separately managed units, (­2) increasing competition to use management techniques from the private sector, (­3) increasing emphasis on discipline and sparing use of resources, (­4) more ­hands-​­on management, (­5) introduction of measurable indicators of performance, and (­6) use of predetermined standards to measure output.10 In the context of higher education, the neoliberal condition Lorenz eloquently describes, has, among other outcomes, intensified careerism and opportunism while hollowing out academic freedom and blunting public debate in the universities. Other major regrettable outlier consequences of the commercialization of education go beyond the need to cut costs and maximize internally generated revenues to include “­a continuous worsening of the faculty/­student ratio, which manifests itself in among other things e­ ver-​­increasing teaching loads for faculty and continuing enlargements of scale in education.” Additional visible markers of neoliberal corporatization of higher education include “[t]he unstoppable rise of league t­ables—​­the ranking of citations, individual researchers, research groups, institutes, and whole universities….” as universities in every corner of the world seek one form of international legitimation or the other. Ultimately, “­league tables simultaneously produce winners and losers, and ‘­the policy of naming and shaming failing institutions has become an annual ritual in humiliation.’”11 At the same time, in the receding horizons of the integrity of higher education, accreditation has replaced professional controls. The accreditation agencies reward institutions according to how they align with ­m arket-​­driven demands and objectives. In short: [w]hat is basically now happening in neoliberal, economic education practice is a paradoxical attempt to uncouple the economic and cultural values of the degree (­and of education in general) and to retain the derivative economic value of education without leaving its cultural basis intact.12 In the larger picture, students churned out via the pressure cooker of the splintered neoliberal education system have become mere potential bearers of skills producing economic value as human capital rather than human beings in their own right. Neoliberal globalization has had an even greater impact on higher education in Africa than elsewhere in the world. The fact that African universities were intentionally set up to be vulnerable to exogenous influences and interferences is well documented. The African university was established to pursue foreign interests and on considerations decidedly inimical to African societies. The West established universities in Africa mainly to create a bureaucratic elite trained in Western education and culture who can help maintain a pervasive Western sphere of influence on postcolonial African states and institutions.13 The British sought to create an elite that would continue to serve the interest of the United Kingdom; the French agenda was to create a select group out of the masses

98  Chika C. Mba

to train them to become aspiring European/­French people or evolues who will promote French culture and continue its colonial rule by proxy and of course feel more comfortable with French/­European society than with fellow Africans. The Belgians offered basic education only, and higher education was reserved for aspiring priests. On the heels of independence, concerted efforts were made by several African governments to reform the universities to pursue cultural and developmental policies in the interest of the newly independent countries. But most of the reforms failed because of a lack of funding, and in several cases, due to political instability, as was the case in Kwame Nkrumah’s Ghana. The problem is that African universities, following political independence of African countries, attempted to go back to the cultural roots of their host societies and chart new directions for higher education. As this was happening, the West shifted attention to an attritional contest for geopolitical supremacy in the Cold War context, necessitating the pursuit of a pitiless neocolonial and interventionist agenda that ultimately ousted the likes of Nkrumah from power and reversed the gains of nationalist struggles and the first phase of decolonization in Africa. This scenario affected the universities immeasurably. In the specific situation of Ghana, Nkrumah’s ouster from power soon exposed the educational sector, especially university education, to unmitigated Western influence, control, and manipulation through the World Bank and other Western donor institutions. The new states struggled to balance the educational budget against a multitude of other developmental needs. Hence, it was easy to surrender education to Western donors and institutions like the World Bank. The World Bank drove a vigorous neoliberal/­neocolonial campaign to cut down funding for higher education in Africa while giving priority to basic/­ primary education. In other words, the World Bank was being used to return the educational sector in Africa to colonial era conditions. The Bank was also writing the educational policy for African countries, highlighting the need to shift focus to primary education, while ­fee-​­paying should be introduced in higher education. There was also heavy insistence on reduction in enrollment in the universities. But the unfortunate irony is that every sector of a nation’s polity, including basic education, relies on the universities for qualified staff, technocrats, and professional controls. World Bank’s reports, recommendations, and policies on education in Africa, paradoxically, frequently ignored the importance of a ­well-​­functioning higher education system in any meaningful effort to achieve quality at other ­sub-​­sectoral levels. But as one educationist counters, it is dangerous to limit a society’s chances of progress to basic education while neglecting h ­ igh-​­level manpower training and research. For it is s­elf-​­contradictory both in conception and practice to attempt to solve the problems of “­Education for All” without a national pool of expertise and without an indigenous capacity for research.14 More disconcertingly, the Educational Policies for S ­ ub-​­Saharan Africa, a 1988 World Bank publication, insisted on “­­cut-​­backs in university funding for fields

Specialization or Interdisciplinarity?  99

like the arts and humanities…”15 B ­ rock-​­Utne reveals that policies could not really be resisted, as criticism of World Bank policies for higher education was not fashionable among African intellectuals who often depended on proceeds from the Bank’s donor consultancies to supplement their meager salaries. Meanwhile, as the ability of African universities to maintain its curriculum, especially in the humanities, through training and hiring of qualified staff diminished, the ministries of education began to emphasize, especially in the 1990s, the need for students to study disciplines that were needed for national development. Guided by the World Bank, courses and subjects in the field of natural sciences were favored and accorded the highest regards. In Nigeria, the situation was a classic case of acute academic imperialism. Not only did the World Bank continue to see university education for Africans as a luxury, but the Bank also forced the National University Commission (­N UC) of Nigeria “­to reallocate resources in order to shift emphasis from arts and humanities to science, engineering, and accountancy….” The Bank insisted on choosing the contractors who were to supply the needed m ­ aterials—​­books, journals, laboratory ­consumables—​­and all of these contractors were foreign companies.16 Eventually faced with severe criticisms, the World Bank may have grudgingly conceded that higher education was important to African overall development, but sufficient damage had been done, and the thinking undergirding higher education in Africa has continued to be guided in many ways by the Bank’s neoliberal tenets. If anything, the impact of neoliberal globalization has taken greater roots, as the West continues a relentless effort to control African lives through academic imperialism. In Ghana, ongoing effort at neoliberal market reforms was forcefully accentuated in 2001, when the government began to push a policy aimed at installing the private sector as the basis of national development. All Ghanaian institutions, including public universities, were prevailed upon to become ­income-​­generating entities through privatization, c­ost-​­sharing, and ­public-​­private initiatives. In addition, neoliberal corporatization of the universities was reflected in various curricular reforms that aimed to attract students, generate money, and position institutions internationally. A key goal of the reforms, it would seem, was to enhance employment opportunities of students.17 But as Gyamera and Burke saw, despite reforms in the university curricula aimed at preparing students for business and industry, the public has continued to complain about the lack of relevant ­socio-​­economic and cultural knowledge in Ghanaian graduates. More than this, the trouble with c­ ost-​­sharing, privatization, p­ ublic-​­private partnerships, or giving the market a predominant role in the vitally important educational sector in African states is that it is again an attempt to impose an ­ill-​­fitting model carried over from the Global North to Africa. The kind of industrial backbone or powerful private sector that the state can share the responsibility of higher education simply does not exist in the postcolonial Africa. For nearly three decades, several universities in Ghana, including the University of Ghana, have highlighted an institutional policy to pursue internationalization and “­World Class” status as their strategic vision and mission.18 This pursuit

100  Chika C. Mba

has only intensified in the last ten years. From the analysis in this section, it is easy to see how this situation is in alignment with the rise of neoliberal internationalization and the whims of Western academic imperialism. It would seem universities in Ghana are queuing into the web of neoliberal higher education market that seeks to meet “­international standards” and global economic competitiveness, where international often mean Europe and North America, and everyone else is in competition with their standards and metrics. Very often, what “­h igh quality research, teaching, and learning,” in fact mean is left undefined. But it is not difficult to conjecture that this refers to internationalization in research, teaching, and learning prototypes; in other words, bringing contents, methods, and presentation to class that meet international, read Western, standards, regardless of whether or not these instruments help with the purpose of creating relevant knowledge capable of bringing about national development in Ghana. These strategic visions have in many ways affected other policies, programs, and mood in most university campuses in Ghana. This scenario, in many ways, explains the drive toward specialization in African Studies in University of Ghana. My key argument is that there is a need to decolonize the overall educational structure that gave vim to the need for specialization in African Studies as a presumed condition for employment or relevance. In the next section, drawing from Nkrumah’s legacy in the area of his cultural policy on education, I extend my argument that it need not be either specialization or interdisciplinarity, if we are to create viable African universities and African Studies centers, institutes, and departments that could fulfill the mandate of African Studies in Africa. The fundamental idea is to decolonize the study of Africa from within and beginning from the African continent.

Nkrumah’s Cultural Policy and the Decolonial Imperatives for African Studies Kwame Nkrumah formally opened the IAS, University of Ghana, on October 25, 1963. In his speech on the momentous occasion, entitled the “­A frican Genius,” he was thinking ahead of his time as he envisaged future problems and seized the opportunity to spell out the onerous responsibilities of the Institute. His closing exhortation was aimed at precisely addressing the problem of specialization and interdisciplinarity: We should in time be able to provide for our students here opportunities for the study of the history, the major languages and literatures, the music and arts, the economic, social and political institutions, of the entire African continent, so that, though individual students will necessarily have to specialise in particular fields, there will be no major sector of African Studies that will be unrepresented here.19 So Nkrumah did believe that students of African Studies “­w ill necessarily have to specialize in particular fields,” but his vision was not guided in any way by

Specialization or Interdisciplinarity?  101

neoliberal anxieties or concerns about finding work in a competitive market after graduation. Nkrumah’s developmental leadership could guarantee that every Ghanaian student would find a suitable job or entrepreneurial succor in the country after graduation. Nkrumah’s main concern was to ensure that “­no major sector of African Studies …will be unrepresented” at IAS. His hope was that “­the Institute would always conceive its function as being to study Africa, in the widest possible ­sense—​­Africa in all its complexity and diversity, and its underlying unity.”20 More than this, Nkrumah funded education heavily through the Ghana Education Trust and via other direct governmental interventions. His government was committed to funding universities in Ghana, so much so that after independence, in proportion to its per capita national income, Ghana was spending ten times as much as Spain on higher education.21 Given the importance he attached to IAS, there could be no shortage of resources, human and otherwise, to run the Institute as his government remained in power. As a matter of fact, Nkrumah established IAS as a s­emi-​­autonomous unit, with its own budget line. The Institute was free to turn to Nkrumah’s government for assistance with manpower and logistical support. His ­longer-​­term agenda was to turn the Institute to a model African University. But as soon as he left power, all of that changed, unfortunately. At the same time, Nkrumah held that “­a vital part” of the African University is a “­­many-​­sided Institute of African Studies,” which he envisioned, “­should fertilise the University, and through the University, the Nation.”22 If the Institute and other African Studies centers and departments on the continent lived up to Nkrumah’s charge, then we need not look any further in search of the relevance of the discipline. Nkrumah’s comments above further clarify his intentions. When he spoke about specialization, he meant this in a “­­many-​­sided” way, which, in that sense, is a qualified notion of interdisciplinarity. At this point, Nkrumah raises a vital question: “­W hat sort of Institute of African Studies does Ghana[/­A frica] want and have need of?” This shows that he was consumed with the question of relevance for African Studies and the ramifications of the Institute’s contributions for the University itself. Nkrumah issues a warning however: We have to recognise frankly that African studies, in the form in which they have been developed in the universities and centres of learning in the West, have been largely influenced by the concepts of old style “­colonial studies,” and still to some extent, remain under the shadow of colonial ideologies and mentality.23 Here, Nkrumah correctly justifies an important agenda he first began to fashion out, beginning from his opening speech at the ­A ll-​­African Peoples Conference which he convened in 1958, namely to ensure that important conversations and discourses about Africa and Africans should begin to take place on the continent rather than overseas. Establishing IAS is, in fact, his most decisive attempt to ensure that Africans in Africa do not continue to be mere eavesdroppers to

102  Chika C. Mba

important discourses about them. This, he understood, is a vital route toward overcoming academic imperialism, miseducation, and neocolonialism. The importance of Nkrumah’s task for IAS lies precisely in the fact that: an African university cannot serve the society unless it is rooted in the indigenous social structures and cultural institutions. Secondly, it would not be able to reach the people in the society without a firm grasp of the philosophical principles that had guided African people throughout history.24 It is therefore the special mandate of African Studies, in Nkrumah’s view, to produce knowledge that would meet the “­responsibilities, conditions and aspirations” of African nations. And to help the university and the nation to transcend the negritudist “­apologetic” African personality to produce the dynamic African genius, capable of “­something positive, or socialist conception of society, the efficiency and validity of our traditional statecraft, our highly developed code of morals, our hospitality and our purposeful energy.”25 It would seem that Nkrumah was on the route to success in this regard. Jean Allman captures the early period in which he established IAS and backed its programs, with a sense of nostalgia, as a lost moment of possibilities: In the history of knowledge production about Africa, this [the early formative years of IAS, 1961 to 1964] constituted an extraordinary moment that is all too often omitted in historical surveys or discussions of African ­Studies—​­a moment bursting with possibilities, in which engaged and rigorous debate, ­A frica-​­centered and ­A frica-​­based, was the prerequisite, no epistemic paradigm was hegemonic, and “­A frican Studies” was envisioned as the site for a full r­e-​­imagining of higher education in an African postcolonial world. …for a brief moment… the grounds of knowledge production about Africa had certainly shifted dramatically.26 Nkrumah’s vision retains strong merits, given the current situation under examination in this essay. But there are few shortcomings. According to Kwame ­Botwe-​­Asamoah, Nkrumah’s call for A ­ frica-​­centered curricula and his stated mission for the IAS in Ghana, in a university founded on the principles of European cultural traditions, were inadequate. Nkrumah made no mention of the need to develop a conscious and sustained evolution of a corresponding A ­ frica-​ c­ entered paradigm for the entire university. Simply urging the scholars, mostly products of European universities, “­to develop, amplify and apply” this paradigm in relation to the actual possibilities that present themselves, B ­ otwe-​­Asamoah 27 argues, underestimated the depth of colonial legacy. Another serious setback was that on the university campus, the Institute and School of Performing Arts were viewed as “­bastards” and “­dondology,” a perception the Institute still struggles to overcome till date.28 ­Botwe-​­A samoah is mostly right here. The subsequent rise of neoliberal education in Ghana points to

Specialization or Interdisciplinarity?  103

how deep the Eurocentric roots cultivated by the founders of the university had taken. Colonial education alienated many African intellectuals from the core of their cultures, and in many ways led to the destabilization of the African society after political independence. Even Africans who studied in institutions situated in Africa found that their education cut them off from the African environment, history, and civilization. Thus, realizing the mandate set for African Studies in Africa by Nkrumah, to decolonize or Africanize the university in Africa requires upturning the ­w ide-​­ranging impact of centuries of British cultural nationalism in Africa. As has now become obvious, the neoliberal ­m arket-​­centered higher education in Ghana and the whole of Africa today makes this task infinitely more challenging.

Conclusion In this chapter, by focusing on current issues to do with curricula specialization at the IAS, University of Ghana, I have underscored the fact that African Studies in Africa is currently at a crossroads precisely because of the inimical impact of neoliberal capitalism on higher education and the national economies of many states. To realign African Studies with its revolutionary legacy and mandate requires that the universities be extricated from the clutches of Western neocolonial/­neoliberal agenda. At its best, neoliberal gains are often paradoxical. As Akilagpa Sawyerr points out, even the apparent success in what he called “­the Makerere Miracle,” it was not in the end an overall success for neoliberal commercialization of education in Uganda in the 1990s. This is because even though neoliberal reforms and innovations apparently led to increased enrollment as well as an improvement in the finances of the university which, in turn, led to increased salaries for staff and faculty, this did not translate into a development plan to provide adequate facilities for the high student enrollment. Other disparities based on class and gender within and outside the university became more pronounced.29 Sawyerr is forced to conclude that “­the vision of the Strategic Plan that supposedly guided the entire reform ­process—​­to make Makerere ‘­a centre of excellence, providing world class teaching, research and service related to sustainable development for Uganda’… seems to have been at best a laudable goal.”30 African universities must transcend the ­m aster-​­disciple relationship between former colonial oppressors and the e­ x-​­colonies in the space of higher education, where the oppressors are thought to have the word, which the ­ex-​­colonies must mimic and regurgitate. The mimetic desire to borrow curriculum, methodology, and content from powerful colonialists is further heightened by economic inequality and neocolonialism.31 Every educational policy or curriculum ought to derive from the culture and social conditions of the indigenous community where it is to take effect. African Studies centers, institutes, and departments as the custodians of cultural information ought to be insulated, as Nkrumah did, from the vagaries of neoliberal marketization.32

104  Chika C. Mba

Another major concern is that there is a missing link between the values that undergird the universities in Africa and the experiences of the masses of people who are outsiders to activities taking place in the “­ivory towers.” This disconnect is also viscerally discernible in the policies and research that faculty and students often must pursue, even though sometimes against their wishes. ­Brock-​­Utne cites Aklilu Habte, the former Vice Chancellor of the University of Addis Ababa as stating that the truly African university must be one that draws its inspiration from its environment, not a transplanted tree, but one growing from a seed that is planted and nurtured in the African soil. 33 The change needed, like many African intellectuals have hinted, does not have to be authentically African, but independent innovations must be rooted in the African experience, even though certain critical elements are drawn from China, Europe, and Asia. The African reality, flora and fauna, must become the subject and object of inquiry in research conducted in African universities. In short, academic freedom for a free people dictates that academic fields ought to sprout from within the indigenous knowledge ecology and scientific theories must be developed from local practices in agriculture, medicine, and technology. To decolonize research, teaching, and learning in African universities, we must begin to take seriously Wiredu’s suggestions about ­counter-​­penetration: The strategy will not work, however, unless Africa builds on its own foundation and stops mimicking the West. Neither will it work before Africa is allowed to work out its own educational policies instead of being forced to adopt those worked out by the World Bank or by donors overseas.34 Finally, this must be said coolly, because it is the cold truth: it is difficult to think of a way to overcome the ongoing vertical internationalization in Ghana/­A frican universities without an ­a ll-​­out effort by African governments to fund higher education, especially research. An internationalization agenda aimed at protecting Ghana’s and/­or Africa’s interest and repositioning our higher education must ­ frica-​­centered. The ongoing innecessarily be horizontal, decolonial, and A tractable crises to do with conditions of service for university teachers in Ghana, Nigeria, and many other African countries are a distraction the educational sector can ­i ll-​­a fford.

Acknowledgement Decolonization, the Disciplines and the University, a project funded by Andrew W. Mellon Foundation.

Notes 1 Sabelo J. ­ Ndlovu-​­ Gatsheni, Rüdiger Seesemann, and Christine ­ Vogt-​­ William, “­ A frican Studies in Distress: German Scholarship on Africa and the Neglected

Specialization or Interdisciplinarity?  105

Challenge of Decoloniality,” Africa Spectrum 57(­1), 2022: ­83–​­100; Judith Byfield, “­A frican Studies and the Challenge of the Global in the 21st Century,” Africa Today 63(­2), 2016: ­55–​­57; Ksenia Robbe, “­A frican Studies at a Crossroads: Producing Theory across the Disciplines in South Africa,” Social Dynamics 40(­2), 2014: ­255–​­73; Emmanuel Akyeampong, “­The African Voice in African Studies,” in Helen Lauer and Kofi Anyidoho (­eds.), Reclaiming the Human Sciences and Humanities through African Perspectives, Vol. II (­Accra: ­Sub-​­Saharan Publishers, 2012), ­Chapter 54: ­982–​­89; Olufemi Táíwò, “­W hat Is ‘­A frican Studies’? African Scholars, Africanist Scholars, and the Production of Knowledge,” in Helen. Lauer and Kofi. Anyidoho (­eds.), Reclaiming the Human Sciences, Vol. II (­Accra: ­Sub-​­Saharan Publishers, 2012), ­Chapter  53: ­966–​­81; and Jean Allman, “­Kwame Nkrumah, African Studies, and the Politics of Knowledge,” International Journal of African Studies 46(­2), 2013: ­181–​­203. 2 Robbe, “­A frican Studies at a Crossroads,” 255; Christopher Clapham, “­Briefing Decolonising African Studies?” Journal of Modern African Studies 58(­1), 2020: 137; Haythem Guesmi, “­The Gentrification of African Studies,” 2018, https://­a fricasacountry. com/­2018/­12/­­the-­​­­gentrification-­​­­of-­​­­a frican-​­studies; Jesutofunmi Odugbemi, Orapeleng Rammala, and Wangu˜ i wa Kamonji, “­There is No Africa in African Studies,” 2019, https://­a fricasacountry.com/­2019/­08/­­there-­​­­is-­​­­no-­​­­a frica-­​­­i n-­​­­a frican-​­studies. 3 Robbe, “­A frican Studies at a Crossroads,” 255. 4 Allman, “­ Kwame Nkrumah, African Studies,” 2­01–​­ 2. See also Kwame ­ Botwe-​ ­ frican-​­Centered ­A samoah, Kwame Nkrumah’s Politico Cultural thought and Policies: An A Paradigm for the Second Phase of the African Revolution (­New York & London: Routledge, 2005). 5 Allman, “­Kwame Nkrumah, African Studies,” 184. 6 Ibid. 7 Rajesh Venugopal, “­Neoliberalism as Concept,” Economy  & Society 44(­2), 2015: 1; and Noam Chomsky, Profit Over People. Neoliberalism and the Global Order (­New York, Toronto & London: Seven Stories Press, 1999). 8 Gifty Oforiwaa Gyamera and Penny J. Burke, “­Neoliberalism and Curriculum in Higher Education: A ­Post-​­Colonial Analyses,” Teaching in Higher Education 23(­4), 2018: 451; and Matt Hastings, “­Neoliberalism and Education,” Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Education, 2019, https://­doi.org/­10.1093/­acrefore/­9780190264093.013.404 9 Chris Lorenz, “‘­If you’re so smart, why are you under surveillance?’ Universities, Neoliberalism, and New Public Management,” Critical Inquiry 38, 2012: 600; Gyamera and Burke, “­Neoliberalism and Curriculum in Higher Education;” and Gifty O. Gyamera, “­The Internationalisation Agenda: A Critical Examination of Internationalisation Strategies in Public Universities in Ghana,” International Studies in Sociology of Education 25(­2), 2015: ­112–​­31. 10 See Lorenz, “­If you’re so smart, why are you under surveillance?” 606. (­Emphasis added.) 11 Ibid., ­605–​­7. 12 Ibid., 623. 13 James R. ­Ochwa-​­Echel, “­Neoliberalism and University Education in ­Sub-​­Saharan Africa, ­July–​­September ­1–​­8. SAGE Open, 2013: ­1–​­2; and Kwame ­Botwe-​­A samoah, Kwame Nkrumah’s Politico Cultural thought and Policies. 14 Birgit ­Brock-​­Utne, “­Formulating Higher Education Policies in Africa: The Pressure from External Forces and the Neoliberal Agenda,” Journal of Higher Education in Africa 1(­1), 2003: 30. 15 Ibid., ­28–​­29. 16 Ibid., 30; and Victor Olumide Ekanade, “­The Dynamics of Forced Neoliberalism in Nigeria Since the 1980s,” Journal of Retracing Africa 1, 2014: ­1–​­24. 17 Gyamera and Burke, “­Neoliberalism and Curriculum in Higher Education,” and Wunpini Fatimata Mohammed, “­Unemployment and the Rise of Neoliberalism in Ghana,” 2018, https://­a fricasacountry.com/­2018/­07/­­unemployment-­​­­a nd-­​­­the-­​­­r ise-­​­­of-­​­­neoliberalism­​­­i n-​­g hana.

106  Chika C. Mba

18 Gyamera, “­The Internationalisation Agenda.” 19 Kwame Nkrumah, The African Genius: Speech Delivered by Osagyefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, President of the Republic of Ghana, at the Opening of the Institute of African Studies on 25th October 1963 (­Accra, Ghana: The Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, 1963), 12. 20 Nkrumah, The African Genius, 9. 21 ­Botwe-​­A samoah, Kwame Nkrumah’s Politico Cultural thought and Policies, 150. 22 Nkrumah, The African Genius, 1. 23 Ibid., 2. 24 ­Botwe-​­A samoah, Kwame Nkrumah’s Politico Cultural thought and Policies, 57. 25 Nkrumah, The African Genius, ­5 –​­6. 26 Allman, “­Kwame Nkrumah, African Studies, and the Politics of Knowledge,” 193. 27 For the extent of this colonial legacy, see ­Botwe-​­Asamoah, Kwame Nkrumah’s politico cultural thought and policies, 58 and passim. 28 In the course of this research, a colleague in the natural sciences at the University of Ghana explained the bias toward African Studies. He explains that he hardly opened ­e-​­mails from the Institute of African Studies because he did not think anything “­serious” was happening there. He claims that he and many others think that only drumming and dancing (­dondology) happened at the Institute. 29 Akilagpa Sawyerr, “­Challenges Facing African Universities: Selected Issues,” African Studies Review 47(­1), 2004: ­1–​­59. 30 Ibid., 50. 31 Gyamera and Burke, “­Neoliberalism and Curriculum in Higher Education.” 32 Sam Onuigbo and Jeff Unaegbu, Fifty Years of African Studies: A History of the Institute of African Studies, University of Nigeria, Nsukka (­­1963–​­2013) (­Nsukka: Institute of African Studies, University of Nigeria, Nsukka, 2013), 6. 33 ­Brock-​­Utne, “­Formulating Higher Education Policies,” 48. 34 Ibid., 52.

PART 2

Theories and Methods of Knowledge Production

7 RETHINKING KNOWLEDGE PRODUCTION IN AFRICA ‘­Afrocentric Epistemology’ as an Emancipatory Discourse Biruk Shewadeg

Introduction “­A frocentric epistemology” implies an inquiry that seeks to escape from a Eurocentric hegemony in knowledge production in combination with a search for an authentic African episteme. The concept assumes that mainstream theories in the social sciences and humanities based on Western ideology and thought negate worldviews about Africans. In other words, normative episteme in the academia has been dominated by the collective European subjectivity that illegitimately amounts to an objective status for all humanities proper. Thus, this chapter theorizes that the rethinking of such an epistemic construction is imperative, although it is necessary to be mindful that all knowledge systems have their limitations. But the discourse in this chapter is founded on the centrality of African agencies within the context of the cultural experiences of African people. The chapter is divided into three sections. First, it attempts to conceptualize Afrocentrism and Afrocentric epistemology while also examining its body of critique. Second, it discusses the ways in which the theory may be utilized to attain emancipation from mental colonization. Finally, using Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s perspective of language, the chapter discusses the language factor in an Afrocentric epistemology.

Conceptualizing Afrocentrism “­Placing African ideals at the Centre of any analysis that involves African culture and behavior” is Asante’s understanding of the very idea of Afrocentrism.1 He presented it as a discourse that fundamentally seeks to uncover and use paradigms that may reinforce the centrality of the African ideal as a valid reference for acquiring and examining knowledge. In an attempt of revalorizing the African place in the DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-10

110  Biruk Shewadeg

interpretation of Africans, the Afrocentric discourse Milam argues, challenge the “­foundations that Eurocentrism is grounded in explaining Africa.”2 As a framework from which the world is approached from an African perspective, Afrocentrism puts the people and culture of Africa as the general focus that represents an African worldview. Afrocentrism begins its analysis with the assumption that Eurocentrism has destroyed African culture: ­de-​­Africanized the consciousness of blacks and crippled their economic and cultural development.3 Eurocentrism is thus presented as a potential threat to the cultural, social, economic, and political development that made the African human experience, Mbembe argues, to constantly appear in the discourse of our times as an experience that can only be understood through a negative interpretation.4 Afrocentrism thus seeks a solution which may include strengthening the development of an Afrocentric epistemology and making Africa one foundation in generating knowledge. This knowledge would ultimately become emancipatory and a defensive weapon against a pervasive and domineering Eurocentric worldview. The Eurocentric scholarship has led the “­A frican history and reality lose any specificity, and with it, we also lose any but an invented notion of Africa.”5 Afrocentrism, as a philosophy that affirms blacks as an “­ active historical agents,” is vital in reversing a perennial misrepresentation of African history and culture and in enhancing ­self-​­esteem. This makes the discourse in need of a vigorous contention against European sole hegemony in knowledge generation, and offering Africans an ennobling, short of however “­exaggerated” and “­mythologized” versions of reconstructing, the African past. In such a way, Afrocentrism requires an absolute abolition of the West from the center of African reality.6 Mamdani, magnifying the perennial Western domination of knowledge production in Africa, coined the idea of “­h istory by analogy” and argues: … analogy seeking turns into a substitute for theory formation. The Africanist is akin to those learning a foreign language who must translate every new word back into their mother tongue, in the process missing precisely what is new in a new experience. From such a standpoint, the most intense controversies dwell on what is indeed the most appropriate translation, the most adequate fit, the most appropriate analogy that will capture the meaning of the phenomenon under observation.7 The central tendency of such a methodological orientation, in view of Mamdani is to lift a phenomenon out of context and process. The result is nothing but a “­h istory by analogy.” But, the Africans, in light of the Afrocentric discourse, can see themselves as agents, actors, and participants rather than as marginal on the periphery of political and economic experiences only when they view themselves as centered and central in their own business. As a paradigm, Afrocentrism enthrones the centrality of the African as expressed in the proper forms of African culture and activates consciousness as a functional aspect of any revolutionary approach to phenomena. This compelled the Afrocentrists not to engage in a

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  111

futile quest for the presence of a collective sense of ­A fricanity – ​­a common experience of the African world. They would rather question centrality, control of the hegemonic global economy, marginalization, and power positions as crucial in articulating the African quagmire. Afrocentrism addresses how the unbalanced relation since the fifteenth century, which is where the West has started its contact with the continent thereof, has resulted in a unidirectional narrative of human history. It questions how the West sought to assume the right to tell its own stories and others solely from its own vantage point. It challenges the overall Western monopoly in knowledge production, which unmasks the undeclared assumption that only the West is legitimate in producing and disseminating its produced knowledge. As it is an experience from a certain segment of humanity, Afrocentrism challenges the universal pretension of the Western epistemology to be incomplete and often distorted when it comes to problematize others’ phenomenon. Afrocentrism by virtue of its call for an Afrocentric epistemology counters this with the assertion of legitimacy of African ideals, values, and experiences as a valid frame of reference in pursuant of an intellectual inquiry. As Mamdani might aver, what one has to argue against should be a Eurocentric discourse that “­dehistoricize phenomena by lifting them from context, whether in the name of an abstract universalism or of an intimate particularism, only to make sense of them by analogy.”8 Mamdani’s endeavor rather is to establish the historical legitimacy of Africa as a unit of analysis. It is important however to note that Afrocentrism does not represent the other replica of E ­ urocentrism  – the ​­ total claimant of control over the monopoly of knowledge. It rather seeks to mature relationship to other cultures, neither imposing nor seeking to advance its own material advantage. Here, an epistemic critique may arise on the issue of relativizing knowledge. Well, Michel Foucault’s exposure of the enigma of ­power-​­knowledge nexus would inform how the two can reinforce each other.9 Afrocentrism in this regard strives fundamentally for centering African culture and claiming it as a valuable part of humanity that attempts to fulfill Africans’ role as a legitimate partner in a multicultural discourse, something constructed together. It only seeks to broaden the horizon of knowledge production. As Asante noted, Afrocentrism adheres to the idea that “­all people have a perspective which stems from their centers.”10 Furthermore, in demonstrating as to how the European early history of renaissance has a concomitant with African roots, early Afrocentric intellectuals embarked up on the “­stolen legacy” discourse.

The Notion of “­Stolen Legacy” Africa, in view of Eurocentrists, was no more than objects in history, little beyond a Hobbesian state of nature. As Mbembe noted, Africa: is never seen as possessing things and attributes properly part of “­human nature”… its things and attributes are generally of lesser value, little

112  Biruk Shewadeg

importance, and poor quality. It is this elementariness and primitiveness that makes Africa the world par excellence of all that is incomplete, mutilated, and unfinished, its history reduced to a series of setbacks of nature in its quest for humankind.11 This can clearly be observed in the Hegelian notion demonstrating Africa saying: The Negro …, exhibits the natural man in his completely wild and untamed state. We must lay aside all thoughts of reverence or ­morality—​­all that we call ­feeling—​­if we are to comprehend him: there is nothing harmonious with humanity to be found in this character… in Negro life, the character point is the fact that consciousness had not yet attained to the realization of any substantial existence… thus distinction between himself and the universality of his essential being, the African in the uniform, underdeveloped oneness of his existence has not yet attained.12 However, early Afrocentric scholars rejected such nullification of African history and civilization. The late Senegalese scholar Cheikh Anta Diop constituted the ideological bedrock of the Afrocentric genre of this sort.13 He rejected the Hamitic explanation for ancient origin while acknowledging its “­Negroid” character. In the same vein, taking Egypt as an important factor in Afrocentric discourse, Asante writes: Afrocentrism reestablishes the centrality of ancient Kemetic (­Egyptian) civilization and the Nile valley cultural complex as points of reference for an African perspective in much the same way as Greek and Rome serve as reference points for the Western world.14 Asante observed that Egyptian civilization is both the foundation of Africa’s classical civilization and progenitor of European civilization. Other Afrocentrists such as Richard Bell also represent ancient Egypt as a birthplace of Science, Philosophy, and Mathematics, a place where Greek scholars went to study prior to shaping Western Civilization.15 Thus, the Greeks acclaimed progenitors of Western civilization were borrowed copiously from ancient ­Egyptian-​­African. This compelled Shavit to come up with a thesis, the “­Greek dependency theory.”16 The argumentation behind the thesis is that if ancient Greek is the foundation of Western culture, if it could be proven that Greek culture was heavily dependent upon Egypt, it seemed reasonable then to depict Western civilization as a product of Africa. The “­Stolen Legacy” thesis thus developed with the alleged recognition of Greek Science and Philosophy is a product of an Egyptian influence. Western civilization, based on what the thesis claims, is a result of “­stolen” ancient ­Egyptian-​­African legacy. The identification of the Alexandrian conquest of Egypt as epochal in this theft and pillage is a case in point. Greek scholars allegedly collaborated with Alexander on his rampage

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  113

through Egypt and pilfered the ancient accounts and treasures of the Egyptian temples. This being the case, however, the colonial enterprise, Bernal argues, makes it necessary to denigrate all things black and African as it needed to establish the superiority of European thought.17 Therefore, an Afrocentric epistemology obtains an indispensable role in countering such downgrading discourse of the West. Afrocentrism, as any other conceptual ideas met with critics which the following discussion treats.

Critics of Afrocentrism Tunde Adeleke could be described as one of the fiercest critics of Afrocentrism. His central thesis centers on whether ancient Egypt or what is known in the literature as Kemet had any influence on Greek civilization or not. He further took issues with the idea of “­A frocentric essentialism” which uses “­A frica to advance a monolithic and homogenous history, culture, and identity for all Black people, regardless of geographical location.”18 By mythologizing identity, Adeleke argues, “­A frocentrists were able to impose a unified identity on all Black people, ignoring the multiple complex historical and cultural experiences.”19 Adeleke’s objective is to offer what he calls “­a n exposition and critique of the cultural, social, historical, and indentitarian implications of the essentialist tradition in contemporary Black cultural nationalist thought as theorized in Afrocentricity.”20 The other critic arises from Afrocentrism’s inconsistency with globalization. Enthusiasts predict the imminence of global “­cultural citizenship” as globalization erodes national, ethnic, racial, or other primordial constructions of identity.21 The notion of global “­cultural citizenship” suggests the possibility of transcending the limitations of national, racial, or ethnic constructions of identity. It also implies the capacity to engage multiple cultural experiences without being boxed in or restrained by one’s original identity. Afrocentrism however is presented to promote uniqueness for a certain segment of humanity. There is a widespread belief that the world is becoming one “­g lobal village” and that technology is breaking down cultural barriers. Consequently, increased interactions relentlessly brought the realization that “­engagements, contacts, interactions, mutuality and shared experiences rather than differences, define the human experience.”22

Critique of the Critics Regarding the first critic, one can rightly challenge the critic itself given the fact that while the debates among historians and classical scholars on who influences who are not likely to end, it is important to recognize the fact that the contributions of ancient African empires to world civilization has either been ignored, distorted, misrepresented, or completely reduced to nonentity in world history by Eurocentric scholarship.23

114  Biruk Shewadeg

On the globalization factor, Afrocentric scholars deem this broadening of the human experience pregnant with hegemonic implication that could perpetuate a global system of unequal relationships. They discern the threat of a neocolonial situation within this global framework, which would facilitate European and superpower dominance over and threat to the survival of weaker nations and peoples. Afrocentric scholars magnify this image of a ­supra-​­European hegemonic and destructive cultural force. Europeans have used, and would continue to use, culture as a weapon of domination. They have objectified and denigrated Africans and successfully constructed a hegemonic world order in the past and nothing in the new global horizon suggests a different outcome. To Afrocentrists, therefore, Europe’s cultural threat to blacks is perpetual and absolute.24 Afrocentric scholars are deeply suspicious of any global cosmopolitan construction of identity (­cultural citizenship). The cultural implications of globalization add urgency and tenderness to the Afrocentric notion of cultural threat, since culture is perceived as a critical front in the war against Eurocentric hegemony. Globalization is portrayed as “­fundamentally a disguised European hegemonic force, a p­ ost-​­modern metamorphosis of nineteenth century imperialism.”25 This new global imperialism, Afrocentrists aver, has shed the blatantly racist arrogance and ideological and militaristic characters of the past and is now cleverly disguised as an internationalist, worldwide phenomenon that supposedly would benefit all of humankind. Asante’s cultural paranoia is worth recalling: “­We are seriously in battle for the future of our culture. Afrocentric vigilance is demanded to preserve our culture.”26 The notion of “­A frocentric epistemology” then is a precursor in a move toward this vigilance.

Theorizing Afrocentric Epistemology Afrocentric epistemology is the study of the African concept of knowledge. It is a branch of African philosophy that deals with knowledge. It engages with the nature and concept of knowledge: the ways in which knowledge can be gained, the ways in which one can justify an epistemic claim or validate a knowledge claim, and other related issues. Afrocentric epistemology consists of how an African sees and talks about reality. There are several elements, Asante writes: in the mind of African that govern how humans behave with regard to reality: the practicality of wholism, the prevalence of consciousness, the idea of inclusiveness, the unity of worlds and the value of personal relationships.27 These, in Asante’s idea constitute the elements of the African mind. They frame, as Jimoh and Thomas argue, the “­A frican conception of reality, and they are the basis in which claims are made by the African. African theory of knowledge is cultural or social as other epistemologies.”28 It denotes an epistemology that is consciously situated within a particular cultural context. It is essential and necessarily rooted in African ontology.

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  115

Since epistemology constitutes the claims we make concerning the facts of our experience of worldviews, it validates the necessity of the relationship between ontology and epistemology, for this relation is crucial to recognize, understand, and authenticate our cognitive claims. As Ruch and Anyanwu succinctly write: We must know that the basic assumptions, concepts, theories, and worldview in terms of which the owners of the culture interpret the facts of experience. Without the knowledge of the African mind process and the worldview into which the facts of experience are to be fitted both the African and European researchers would merely impute emotive appeals to cultural forms and behavior suggested by same unknown mind.29 With a philosophy of integration and principles of understanding, the African cultural world differs intrinsically from the Western world of ideas, particularly with regard to what constitutes trustworthy knowledge and reality. In the traditional African thought system, as Ramose might argue, there is a concrete existence of man and nature.30 African tradition considers the two not in terms of separate ontological existence, but in terms of conceptual numericality. The separation of man and nature, therefore, is impossible for the African. These two are “­sacredly united” in the conception of Jimoh and Thomas.31 Thus, the African world is a unitary world as different from the analytical and pluralistic world of the Western thought. Owing to the reason that the African ontology represents a unitary world, not attending the problem of knowledge by dividing its domain in to the rational, the empirical, and the mystical of African epistemology may not be surprising. The three constitutes a single way of knowing in both the intellectual and concrete division of reality. Therefore, the traditional African epistemology goes beyond the outer reach of formal logic and acknowledges the irreducible mystery of the transcendent, while a Western scientific paradigm maintains methodological and mathematical formulations. The African epistemology sees man and nature as one inseparable continuum, so to speak. This made subjectivism and objectivism, not to constitute a problem in African theory of knowledge. They are rather subsumed in the unity of existence. In such unity, the subject gets to know the object. This may not be possible in a condition where subject and object are detached. African epistemology does not demarcate between the epistemic subject and the epistemic object. The epistemic subject that experiences the epistemic object and the epistemic object which is being experienced are joined together in such a way that the epistemic object experiences the epistemic object in a sensuous, emotive, and intuitive understanding as well as through abstraction rather than through abstraction alone which characterizes Western epistemology. This in the “­normative” understanding of epistemology may raise questions of justification. And regarding justification for a claim made, Aja argues that the problem of knowledge in the African worldview to be found in ascertaining whether or not what is claimed as knowledge is actually knowledge rather

116  Biruk Shewadeg

than mistaken opinion on the one hand, and the means or source of acquiring knowledge on the other.32 He thus sought confusion between knowledge and the source of knowledge in African epistemology. Anyanwu and Ruch, however, address the issue of justification, claiming that: Knowledge therefore comes from the cooperation of all human faculties and experiences. He sees, feels, imagines, reasons, or thinks and intuits all at the same time. Only through this method does he claim to have knowledge of the other. So, the method through which the African arrives at trustworthy knowledge of reality … is intuitive and personal experience.33 In the African epistemology thus, there cannot be knowledge of reality whether it’s the noumenon or phenomenon, as far as Kant is concerned, if man detaches himself from reality. The subject, therefore, has to be involved in seeing and thinking, experiencing as well in conceiving reality.34 This validates the idea that experience is vital in the cognitive process. This is where Senghore’s (­in)­famous “­Emotion is Negro, Just as Reason is Hellenic” can be situated. Knowledge in Africa, therefore, consists of imagination, intuition, feeling, and abstraction. Cognition in the African worldview seeks oral tradition of music, folklore, proverb, etc. with the literacy advancement; the analytical discursive and rigorous logic that dominated the Western tradition would help to open the African thought system to a scientific system. Furthermore, the African epistemology conceives knowledge more as a product of societal convention rather than an objectivist phenomenon. This makes the justification of knowledge claims to be within the context of knowledge, whereby the knowledge is made. Therefore, it is not only senseless but would “­y ield no results to find justification for a claim made in one cultural context in another as the standards of both contexts may be incomparable.”35 Any epistemology, the African one in particular, tends toward the view that human and sociocultural factors necessarily interfere with human understanding and therefore help to define rational certainty. While restriction to the scientific method of abstraction and bifurcation of reality to subjective and objective in consonance with its ontology characterizes Western epistemology. The African epistemology in consonance with the African ontology conceives the world as a basic unitary system therefore considers reality as interwoven and connected.36 That is why the African epistemology sees beyond the issues of distinction between knowledge and belief, the subject and object, the noumenon and phenomenon. The domain of knowledge in African epistemology is not polarized between the doubts that assail epistemic claims and the certitude that assures our claim. As per the claims of Afrocentric epistemology is concerned, culture plays a vital role in the cognitive understanding of reality, and as Brown argues, “­unless one is intimately familiar with the ontological commitment of a culture, it’s often difficult to appreciate or otherwise understand those commitments.”37 Thus, understanding the African cultural and ontological conception of reality is crucial

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  117

to enable us to understand the African approach to knowledge. Furthermore, for the African, there is more to reality than what is within the realm of empirical inquiry. In this regard, Brown writes: a fundamental tenet of traditional African culture is that there is more to reality and to the realm of experience than that which is readily accessible through empirical inquiry, and that one acquires an understanding of natural phenomena by appealing to experiences whose characterizations are not empirically confirmable but are nonetheless warrantably assertible.38 An Afrocentric epistemology accepts the idea that the essence of life and therefore of human being is spiritual. But this is not the denial of the material life; however, when all is done and said, what remains is the indivisible essence of life, that is, the ­spirit – ​­ultimate oneness with nature, the fundamental interconnectedness of all things, and not the appearance of things. Therefore, Afrocentric epistemology is a reflection of the primacy of the spiritual, the relationship between the physical and the spiritual, and the interconnectedness of all things as well. “­The integration of spiritual and physical principles, may however be challenged by an environment dominated by rationalism and empiricism.”39 As a matter of fact, however, the spiritual component of nature that influences human experience and perception, Appiah argues, cannot readily be explained by empirical verification.40 It rather is explained by the causal efficacy of the spiritual component of nature. “­Spiritual component of nature” signifies incorporeal components that have consciousness. That means they own awareness of nature as humans have and apparently, they constitute a capacity to respond to perceptions. In such a way, Afrocentric epistemology represents a major departure, since the fundamental Western ontology toward knowledge is that science is the primary determinant of what is real and what is not. Anything that cannot be supported by science is considered a metaphysical fantasy or mere superstition. By contrast, it is worthy to note that not all of Western religion is supported by science, yet it is not presented as a metaphysical fantasy or mere superstition. Rather, it is seen as “­g rounded in the literatures, doctrines, dogmas, revelations, and historical traditions that have shaped political policies and norms.”41 It further gives meaning and purpose to the faithful as well as motivates scientific inquiry and great art. It deeply promotes Western civilization as a moral structure on which human behaviors are guided and judged. This being the case, many Western intellectuals view traditional African culture as a myth, a metaphysical fantasy, or religious superstition. They conceive the African culture as lacking the grounding that Western culture claims to have. It is here that the Afrocentrists are expected to make the unorganized organized, the uncoordinated coordinated, and give pattern to such knowledge and keep it entrenched in the academia. Equivocally, they have to also do away and emancipate from the “­normative” perception of epistemology that corners those knowledge systems that may appear strange.

118  Biruk Shewadeg

Why Emancipation? Afrocentrism’s ultimate aim is liberation. The Afrocentric epistemology, which is the extension of Afrocentrism, must generate a knowledge that will free and empower the Africans in the course of mental decolonization. It is in this light that Afrocentric epistemology is claimed to be “­emancipatory.” The liberation achieved contends and rests upon African’s ability to systematically displace the Western way of thinking, being, feeling, and consciously replace them with ways that are germane to our own African cultural experience. Epistemological centeredness, Mazama argues, becomes a key idea behind this emancipatory discourse.42 As Asante writes, Afrocentric epistemology: Establishes a frame of reference wherein phenomena are viewed from the perspectives of the African person … it centers on placing people of African origin in control of their lives and attitudes about the world. This means that we examine every aspect of the dislocation of African people, culture, economics, psychology, and religion.43 As an intellectual inquiry, Afrocentric epistemology studies ideas and events from the standpoint of the Africans as key players. This discourse, by virtue of an authentic relationship to the centrality of Africa’s own reality, is a fundamentally empirical project. It laid down the ways in which Africa asserts itself intellectually and psychologically, breaking the bonds of mental colonization. Afrocentric epistemology produces knowledge not only for the sake of it but primarily for the sake of liberation and emancipation. In this way, one can argue that Afrocentric epistemology does by no means represent a disinterested pursuit of knowledge only. It brings a paradigm that can activate our consciousness to be of any use to us. The discourse has to have an aim of defending the cause of educational social justice. Its emancipatory nature offers an important discursive space to rupture the culture of dominance that represents a monocultural system of thought. The Afrocentric emancipatory discourse has to “­expand horizon of the curriculum to include the valid achievement and knowledge of the Africans.”44 The emancipatory discourse led by Afrocentric epistemology seeks the African experience to determine all inquiries that denote the importance of the spiritual, the necessity of immersion in the subject, a due consideration of holism, and the way in which intuition can be relied upon. Deconstructing what Udefi calls “­colonial Myth on Africa,” which involves the denial of rational thought, civilization, history, etc., to African and Africans is crucial.45 The colonization of Africa was based on the ideological framework that Western reason and civilization was superior to the ­non-​­Westerners, particularly when that culture is African. Thus, Afrocentric epistemology must be liberating and emancipatory. However, the Afrocentric epistemology has to make sure that conceptual decolonization may not be fully attained in a condition where its language itself is colonial. Moreover, it might be a paradox when Afrocentrism condemns

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  119

mental colonization in which the condemnation itself is made through a colonial language.

Emancipation ­vis-­​­­à-​­vis the African Vernacular: A Concomitant Fanon argues that “­Language is a technology of power.”46 Colonialism made possible total dismantlement of people’s material wealth and culture. Propagation of colonial languages at the detriment of local languages was part of the colonial enterprise. Domination of the people’s language by languages of the colonizing nations, Ngugi, the Kenyan critic and an accomplished writer, argues, “­was crucial to the domination of the mental universe of the colonized.”47 Mental colonization is indeed impossible short of an imposed colonial language, since language is a collective memory bank of a society. In this regard, Ngugi avers, “­­Europhone-​­African literature has stolen the identity of African literature.”48 Colonial language policies and colonial schooling systems systematically degraded African languages by forcing Africans to speak colonial languages and this created “­feelings of inferiority in African peoples.”49 Ngugi, disclosing the adamant fixation of the postcolonial intelligentsia in the e­ x-​­colonial language, claims: In all other societies, writers, keepers of memories, and carriers of national discourse use the languages of their communities; but the postcolonial intellectuals prefer to express communal memories in foreign languages, which, in the end, means sharing those communal memories with the foreign owners of the languages or among themselves as a f­oreign-­​­­language-​ ­speaking elite. The result, really, is an i­ntra-​­class conversation of an elite that, cocooned from the people by the language of its choice and practice, conceives of itself as constituting the nation all by itself.50 The Afrocentric discourse then may lose its sense while neglecting the language factor as one important element in a way of developing an emancipatory discourse. Fanon scrutinized the way colonized peoples participate in their own subjection through internalizing inferiority. Internalization or what he calls “­epidermalization” of inferiority is collective ­self-​­hatred and preference for the colonial language and its culture on the part of the African is one of the symptoms.51 Colonized peoples, forced to speak colonial languages, tended to adopt colonial ways of thinking and to identify more with the colonizing are alienated from their own languages and culture. The debate about the appropriateness of colonial language as a language of literary and cultural expression in postcolonial Africa symbolizes the contradictory impulse in Africa’s engagement with the colonial. Ngugi is one of the chief proponents of the argument against English language to be a language of literacy in postcolonial Africa. Learning and promoting African indigenous language have to be, Ngugi argues, a means of confronting the

120  Biruk Shewadeg

language problem in postcolonial Africa. His rejection of his “­Christian” name, James, and the adoption of his “­native” name, Wa Thiongo, which means “­son of Thiongo,” shows his unshakeable stance on the language factor. Ngugi’s bold rejection of English is further marked when he refused to write in that language. He rather opts for Gikuyu, his “­mother” language, one of the Kenyan indigenous languages to write. His book of essays Decolonizing the Mind documents his politics of language. This book of essays, up until his return in 2009 with his Something Torn and New: An African Renaissance, marked his departure from English. He writes, “­This book … is my farewell to English as a vehicle for my writings. From now on it is Gikuyu and Kiswahili all the way.”52 Ngugi identified the continued use of English as a perpetuation of imperialism. His rejection of English marks and executes his ideological confrontation with English. His decision to reject English is necessitated by his conviction that English cannot be freed from its racial and colonial assumptions of superiority and authority. He strongly argues that mental decolonization that emancipates Africa from the hangover of colonialism is unattainable without a divorce from colonial languages. For Ngugi, the struggle against colonial and neocolonial domination includes resistance and rejection of colonial authoritative discourses. Bakhtin’s engagement with the idea of authoritative discourse has a resonance with Ngugi’s stance on the language factor. Bakhtin describes “­authoritative discourse” as that which exerts power and influence over us. He describes how the influence of another’s discourse in the process of ideological formation assumes an authoritative quality. According to Bakhtin, authoritative discourse: [D]emands that we acknowledge it, that we make it our own; it binds us. Quite independent of any Dower it might have to persuade its authority already fused to it. The authoritative word is located in a distanced zone, organically connected with a past that is felt to be hierarchically higher. It is, so to speak, the word of the fathers. Its authority was already acknowledged in the past. It is a prior discourse.53 Likewise, Ngugi describes English as functioning in such an authoritative fashion. He considers the school as the site of such deployment of authority and power. He writes: The settler despised peasant languages which he termed vernacular, meaning the languages of the slaves, and believed that the English language was holy. Their pupils carry this contempt a stage further: some of their early education acts on receiving the flag were to ban African languages in schools and to elevate English as the medium of instruction from primary to secondary stages. In some schools, corporal punishment is meted out to those caught speaking their mother tongue; fines are extorted for similar offenses.54

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  121

In its association with holiness and the imperial, English operates at elevated, sacred, and epic zones. Ngugi’s description of English corresponds with Bakhtin’s identification of authoritative discourse as the “­Sacred Writ,” a language “­that must not be taken in vain.”55 Ngugis “­resistance of English in favor of his native language can be regarded as a struggle against the authoritative demands of English.” His philosophy and ideology of ­language – ​­culture influences his sharp arguments against writing in English. For him, as for many other Afrocentrists, language, besides being simply a means of communication, is a carrier of culture. Ngugi’s view of language echoes positivist notions of language which cast language as either a code or simply a transparent vehicle for transmitting meanings and ideas. He identifies three essential aspects of language as culture. The first cultural aspect of language is that it is a product and reflection of history. His observations about language and history point to his sensitivity to language as an embodiment of a particular historicity. Similarly, Bakhtin argues that language will always carry the “­survivals of the past.”56 Second, language has a “­psychological role in mediating between self and self, self and other, and self and nature.”57 Ngugi’s conception of language in its mediating role is similar to Bakhtin’s dialogic view of language. In his study of language in society, Bakhtin reminds us that language as a pluralist construct: lies on the borderline between oneself and the other. The word is half someone else’s… the word does not exist in a neutral and impersonal language… but rather it exists in other people’s mouths, in other people’s contexts, sewing other people’s intentions; it is from there that one must make the word and make it one’s own.58 The capacity to transmit or convey images of the world and reality through spoken and written words is Ngugi’s third identification of a language. In his view, therefore, a particular language transmits the images of the world contained in the culture it carries. The particularity of the sounds, the words, the word order in phrases and sentences, and the specific manner of laws of their ordering are what distinguish one language from another. He writes, “­a specific culture is not transmitted through language in its universality but in its particularity as the language of a specific community with a specific history.”59 His conception of language as a representation of particular or specific culture or reality does promote a difference and distinctiveness that may not admit any universality or commonality of languages. His rejection of colonial languages is based on his view that the imposition of colonial languages introduces a particular culture and a specific worldview that alienates colonized people from their own language, culture, and universe. This alienation then inevitably jeopardizes the call for mental decolonization. Ngugi further associates language strongly to cultural identity. He asserts that language is central to one’s cultural identity and to one’s relationship with the universe. He further claims, “­The choice of language and use to which language

122  Biruk Shewadeg

is put is central to a people’s definition of themselves in relation to the entire universe.”60 Then, how does the main tenet of Afrocentrism that is, “­Centrality of the African ideal in Afrocentric epistemology,” be practical in a situation where the African languages are neglected in favor of the colonial one? Ngugi argues, after Fanon, that a sense of self on the part of African people is inhibited by use of European languages.61 He sees the continued use of English and its dominance in Africa as a kind of mental colonization and cultural imperialism. Ngugi regards the use of colonial languages to be a cultural and conceptual prison house that holds the African mind captive. For him, decolonization requires, among other things, an outright rejection of colonial language. He is not alone in regard to defending African vernacular; another African writer, Onoge, also argues that the continued use of European languages in postcolonial Africa forces Africans to abandon their own languages and therefore their commitment to an identity based on kinship, symbolized by a shared language and religious beliefs.62 In the same vein, Oyekan Owomoyela postulates that African languages embody what Ghanian writer Ayi Kwei Armah calls “­our way” as well as express conceptions of reality that are specific: uniquely African.63 African kinship illustrates well this relationship between culture, language, and identity.64 Owomoyela, strengthening Ngugi’s idea, argues that language carries cultural values and distinguishes one culture from another.65 Language, he adds, is not primarily or exclusively a means of communication, but a system of representation. For him, language represents cultural values. He associates the death of a language with the demise of a culture. Owomoyela considers African languages, cultural identity, and the distinctive African ways of speaking to be at risk of disappearing with the increasing dominance of European languages in ­post-​­independence. Ngugi, Onoge, and Owomeyela, all share similar concerns about English. Their radical responses are necessitated by fear of cultural loss. Ngugi suggests that the continued use of English is a perpetuation of imperialism. To sum up, Afrocentrism in its fullest sense of the term is unattainable with an abandonment of African vernaculars in knowledge production.

Conclusion The Afrocentric epistemology asserts both that the African distinct cultural values, traditions, mythology, and history has to be considered as a body of knowledge that deals with the social world and that it is an alternative, n ­ on-​­exclusionary, and ­non-​­hegemonic system of knowledge based on the African experience. It investigates and understands phenomena from a perspective grounded in ­A frican-​ c­ entered worldviews. Afrocentric epistemology is about a critique of systems of “­educational texts, mainstream academic knowledge, and scholarship; and further validates the African experience and ontology.” Afrocentric epistemology, generally speaking, calls for an alternative culture to be part and parcel of the school system and knowledge.

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  123

A society’s worldview, in view of Afrocentric discourse, determines what constitute a problem for them and how they address it. As a result, Afrocentric scholarship reflects the “­ontology, cosmology, axiology, and aesthetic of the Africans.”66 It is with this assumption that it has to be centered in the African experience. Frantz Fanon’s idea of liberation appears vital in this regard. As with liberation from mental colonization, there must be a transformation of the status quo as to find a foundation for incorporating alternative perspectives. This is indeed moral and profoundly political. One must take into account the point that this process of intellectual liberation is a response to the slavery, colonialism, and imperialism since the fifteenth century. Alternative voices are vehicles for liberating for those who demean thereof. In most cases, Eurocentrism masquerades as epistemological universalism, and political and academic projects that seek to break the silences around subordinate group’s knowledge are firmly discredited. The call for multiple approaches to knowledge production appears imperative in such a case. The Eurocentric enthusiastic endorsement of hierarchical ordering has resulted in an over glorification of quantification and skepticism about anything that failed to be quantified. The “­normative” explanation of social phenomena while often presented as structural forms downplays the human element and dimension of emotionality and intuition. This is a primary concern that Afrocentric scholarship brings to the debate in an attempt of creating a truly inclusive body of knowledge. In dealing with how to deconstruct the “­normative” epistemological discourse and promoting the African one, an Afrocentric discourse also gets entangled with the question of language. Ngugi’s concerns with the preservation of the vernaculars and cultures are persuasive, in that identity is clearly embedded in our language and culture and therefore be kept lingua franca in the academia is worthwhile. For a ­f ull-​­fledged Afrocentric epistemology without the use of African vernacular is not only obsolete but also inconceivable.

Notes 1 Molefi Kete Asante, The Afrocentric Idea (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1987), 6. 2 John Milam, The Emerging Paradigm of Afrocentric Research Methods, ASHE Annual Meeting Paper, 1992: 12. 3 Molefi Kete Asante, “­The Afrocentric Idea in Education,” Journal of Negro Education 60(­2): 1991: ­170–​­80. 4 Achille Mbembe, On the Postcolony (­Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001). 5 Mahmood Mamdani, Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of Late Colonialism (­Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996). 6 Molefi Kete Asante, Afrocentricity (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1988). 7 Mamdani, Citizen and Subject, 12. 8 Ibid., 13. 9 Michael Foucault, Power/­Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1 ­ 972–​­1977 (­New York: Pantheon, 1980). 10 Asante, Afrocentricity, 87.

124  Biruk Shewadeg

Mbembe, On the Postcolony, 1. Georg W. F. Hegel, The Philosophy of History (­New York: Dover, 1956). Cheikh Anta Diop, The African Origin of Civilization (­New York: Lawrence. 1974). Asante, The Afrocentric Idea, 9. Richard Bell, Understanding African Philosophy: A Cross Cultural Approach to Classical and Contemporary Issues (­New York and London: Routledge, 2002). 16 Yaacov Shavit, History in Black: African Americans in Search of an Ancient Past ( ­L ondon: Frank Cass, 2001). 17 Martin Bernal, Black Athena: The ­Afro-​­asiatic Roots of Classical Civilization. Vol. 2. The Archaeological and Documentary Evidence (­New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1991). 18 Tunde Adeleke, The Case against Afrocentrism ( ­Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2009). 19 Ibid., 91. 20 Ibid., 10. 21 Robin Cohen, Global Diasporas: An Introduction (­Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1997). 22 Tunde Adeleke, “­A frica and Afrocentric Historicism: A Critique,” Advances in Historical Studies 4, 2015: 209. 23 Adisa Alkebulan, “­Defending the Paradigm,” Journal of Black Studies 37(­3), 2007: ­410–​­27. 24 Adeleke, “­A frica and Afrocentric Historicism,” 209. 25 Ibid. 26 Asante, Afrocentricity, 49. 27 Molefi Kete Asante, The Egyptian Philosophers: Ancient Voices from Imhotep to Akhenaten (­Chicago, IL: African American Images, 2000), 126. 28 Anselm Jimoh and John Thomas, “­A n African Epistemological Approach to Epistemic Certitude and Skepticism,” Research on Humanities and Social Sciences 5(­11), 2015: 20. 29 A. Ruch and K. Anyanwu, African Philosophy: An Introduction to the Main Philosophical Trends in Contemporary Africa (­Rome: Catholic Book A ­ gency-​­Officium Libri Catholicum, 1984). 30 Magobe B. Ramose, “­The Philosophy of Ubuntu and Ubuntu as Philosophy,” in P.  H. Coetzee and A. P. J. Roux (­eds.), The African Philosophy Reader (­New York: Routledge, 2003), 270–280. 31 Jimoh and Thomas, “­A n African Epistemological Approach,” 3. 32 E. Aja, Elements of Theory of Knowledge (­Enugu: ­Auto-​­Century Publishing Co. Ltd., 1993). 33 Ruch and Anyanwu, African Philosophy. 34 Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason (­Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998). 35 Jimoh and Thomas, “­A n African Epistemological Approach,” 5. 36 Leopold Senghor, “­Negritude: A Humanism of the Twentieth Century,” in Fred Lee Hord and Jonathan Scott Lee (­eds.), I Am because We Are: Readings in Africana Philosophy (­A mherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1995). 37 Lee M. Brown, (ed.), African Philosophy: New and Traditional Perspectives (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004). 38 Ibid., 159. 39 Ama Mazama, “­The Afrocentric Paradigm: Contours and Definitions,” Journal of Black Studies 31(­4), 2001: 14. 40 Kwame Appiah, “­A frican Studies and the Concept of Knowledge,” in Bert Hamminga (­ed.), Knowledge Culture Comparative Western and African Epistemology (­­A msterdam-​ New York, Brill, 2005). 41 Brown, African Philosophy, 159.

11 12 13 14 15

Rethinking Knowledge Production in Africa  125

4 2 Mazama, “­The Afrocentric Paradigm,” 14. 43 Asante, “­The Afrocentric Idea in Education,” 172. 4 4 George J. Sefa Dei, “­A frocentricity: A Cornerstone of Pedagogy,” Anthropology  & Education Quarterly 25(­1), 1994: 3. 45 Amaechi Udefi, “­Theoretical Foundations for an African Epistemology,” in R. A. Akanmidu (­ed.), Footprints in Philosophy (­I badan: Hope Publications, 2005), ­74–​­83. 46 Franz Fanon, Black Skin White Masks (­L ondon: Pluto Press, 1967). 47 Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, Decolonizing the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature (­L ondon: Martin’s Press, 1986), 18. 48 Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, Something Torn and New: An African Renaissance: R ­ e-​­membering Visions (­New York: Basic Civitas Books, 2009), 51. 49 Violet B. Lunga, “­A n Examination of African Postcolonial Experience of Language, Culture, and Identity. Amakhosi Theatre Ako Bulawayo,” PhD Dissertation, Simon Fraser University, Zimbabwe, 1997), ­47–​­38. 50 Ngugi, Something Torn and New, 56. 51 Fanon, Black Skin White Masks. 52 Ngugi, Decolonizing the Mind, xiv. 53 Mikhail Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays (­Caryl Emerson  & Michael Holquist, Trans.) (­Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), 342. 54 Ngugi Wa Thiong’o. Decolonizing the Mind, 59. 55 Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, 342. 56 Ibid., 66. 57 Lunga, “­A n Examination of African Postcolonial Experience of Language,” 42. 58 Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, 293. 59 Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, Decolonizing the Mind, 15. 60 Ibid., 4. 61 See, Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (­New York: Grove Press, 1963). 62 Omafume Onoge, “­The Crisis of Consciousness in Modern African literature,” in Georg M. Gugelberger (­ed.), Marxism and African Literature (­L ondon: James Currey, 1990), ­21–​­49. 63 See Oyekan Owomoyela, “­Language, Identity, and the Social Construction in African Literatures,” Research in African Literatures 23, 1992: ­83–​­94; and Ayi K. Armah, The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born (­Oxford: Heinemann, 1975). 64 Lunga, “­A n Examination of African Postcolonial Experience of Language,” 43. 65 Owomoyela, “­Language, Identity.” 66 Mazama, “­The Afrocentric Paradigm,” 14.

8 TOWARD AFRICANA QUEER THEORY IN AFRICANA STUDIES The Case for African Cosmology Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Introduction This chapter is inspired by both personal and academic concerns about perspectives on continental and diasporan lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (­queer) identities and experiences in Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered discourse in the discipline of Africana Studies.1 These concerns began during my years as a master’s student in Africana Studies at The State University of New York at Albany, and then as a doctoral student in the first doctoral program in African American Studies in the world, Temple University, the foremost location of graduate Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered education. In both spaces, I was introduced to Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered schools of thought that were grounded in ancient and traditional continental African ways of perceiving the world; this perspective for me was inspiring and so liberating in scope. gender ­ non-​ During these years of study at both institutions as a queer/­ c­ onforming person, I became more and more interested in thinking about how an Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered approach to knowledge can be of service to continental African and African diasporan lesbians, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer folks whose experiences, life chances and social justice concerns are rarely addressed in Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered qualitative, quantitative, literary, historical, psychological or philosophical research, writing and coursework. Despite the ongoing visibility of continental and diasporan queer persons in Afrocentric/­ A ­ frican-​­ centered rituals, institutions, organizations, programs and academic units, justice for atrocities committed against and concern for the life chances of Africana queer folks seem to be beyond the scope of Afrocentric/­­African-​ c­ entered communities and institutions to which many queer folks have dedicated their lives. For within most Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered literature, theory and social science research written during the late twentieth and early ­twenty-​­first DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-11

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  127

centuries, the “­homosexual” is defined as an alien in both continental and diasporan communities. Because of this stance, most of the ­A frican-​­centered queer folks at Temple felt that the only way to be valued in the community of Africana Studies scholars was to either be in denial of oneself in their research and writing in order to get through the program or to be silent in response to verbal or written ­hetero-​­patriarchal ideas and discussions.2 The purpose of this chapter is to explore the rationale for and shift toward the development of an Africana queer theory in Africana Studies. I seek to push ­A frocentric-​­/­­A frican-­​­­centered-​­oriented scholars to think more critically about the possibility that African ways of knowing can provide the groundwork for an Africana queer theory. This theory attempts to challenge the normative sexist, heterosexist and heteronormative Eurocentric perspective Afrocentric/­­African-​ ­centered scholars have concerning the life chances of African and diasporan lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people. The first section of the essay briefly defines “­queer” and places the chapter within the tradition of Black Queer Studies. The second, third and fourth sections of the chapter critique African American, lesbian feminist Cheryl Clarke. Within these sections, the rationale for queer theory is fleshed out first within a brief overview of the significance of cosmology within the discipline of Africana Studies. The third section reviews “­­anti-​­homosexual” legislation in Africa, the Caribbean and South America and societal treatment of Africana queers. The major arguments concerning “­homosexuals” in the writings of the foremost Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered scholars, who have created the normative discourse in contemporary ­A frican-​ ­centered Africana Studies, are examined in the fourth section. The final section of the chapter attempts to deal with the issue raised by the African American gay scholar and HIV activist Ron Simmons. Thus, returning to ancient and traditional African ideas about the origin and structure of the universe and constructs of the human personality, the section explores how cosmology can be used to explain that humans are nothing but spirit/­energy beings and that genders and sexualities are expressions of spirit/­energy in existence.3

Defining Queer With the visibility of more transgender people in popular culture and the growing number of community education and research centers catered toward genders and sexualities, the term queer has become a normative term in both public and academic discourse.4 A brief definition rather than an extensive and detailed meaning of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender identities and experiences will be provided here. Lesbian and gay are the most familiar terms for some readers; both terms signal what is commonly understood to reference ­same-​­sex desire and can include intellectual, emotional, psychological and indeed, spiritual attractions. The bisexual suggests that one is not confined to or restricted by strictly heterosexual or lesbian or gay sexuality, opting possibly for multiplicities

128  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

in experiences and connections. For readers who are unfamiliar with the more recent terminology of transgender or gender n ­ on-​­conforming, these terms refer to persons who do not identify, in variations, with the biological sex/­anatomical bodies into which they have been born; hence, one can trans, move across or toward the aesthetics or body or performance that feels in alignment with who one may be.5 All these identities and experiences can, however, be defined as queer. The term queer has a multiplicity of meanings and liberating implications. I will include queer ethicist David Ross Fryer’s definition of queer in its entirety. He writes: First, “­queer” is used as an umbrella term, as an overarching way of bringing lgbti under one name, both to avoid the awkwardness of alphabet soup and to offer a display of solidarity among the disparate communities the term tries to cover. Second… “[q]ueer” thus includes gender identity within its parameters in a way that “­lesbian and gay” does not. Third, “­queer” is used as a challenge to the conservative aspirations of many lesbian and gay liberation movements, movements that (­a) base themselves on the existence of an essence and inner identity that determines its members and (­b) work toward inclusion within the accepted norms of society, claiming that gay men and lesbians aren’t a danger to normative society because they hold the same values as it does. Queer challenges both of those claims…. [I]t includes within that group not only those who are of a different “­sexual orientation,” but also those who don’t fit into the normative gender binary of “­m an/­woman” (­gender identity), in relation to not only “­m asculine/­feminine” (­gender expression), but also in relation to “­m ale/­female”(­biological sex) [emphasis added].6 I, therefore, use queer in this work because I appreciate the fluid meaning of the term. It is radical, in the sense that queer persons, writers, thinkers, scholars and activists embrace the term to challenge the ­binary-​­based interpretation of biological sex, orientation, gender identity and expression and even the static binary lesbian and gay orientation that often mimics heteronormative expressions and aspirations. It is important to note however that my use of queer differs in some degree from more Western academic and some activists’ use of the term queer. Queer, coming out of the Western tradition, challenges the idea that there is a particular “­essence and inner identity” of each person which informs their gender identity and sexuality. An Africana queer theory, however, is based on the idea that there is a particular “­essence and inner identity” that informs one’s experiences of gender and sexuality, whether a person is aware of this essence or not. What an Africana queer theory attempts to do is suggest that desire and attraction, gender identity and expression and even biological sex are all manifestations and expressions of a particular spirit/­energy or one’s ­h igher – ­​­­self-​­acting in the material world and in accordance with one’s own destiny and life purpose.

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  129

Africana queer theory then is in the tradition of Black Queer Studies because it prioritizes the experiences of diasporan folks’ sexualities and genders in ways Queer (­W hite) Studies as a field of study has not.7 The field of normative Queer (­W hite) Studies rarely considers “­race” as a variable, informing the experiences of queer folks who are African diasporan.8 In fact, the call for Black Queer Studies was partially a corrective to the field of Queer Studies, queer theorists and queer activists who were, in some Black queer scholars’ estimations, only concerned with liberating the oppressions around heteronormative genders and sexualities; challenging white supremacy and Eurocentric thinking, the source of heterosexism, heteronormativity and racialized oppression was not considered.9 Black Queer Studies has become the framework to do what political scientist Cathy J. Cohen attempts to do. She writes: [r]ecognizing the limits of current conceptions of queer identities and queer politics, I am interested in examining the concept of “­queer” in order to think about how we might construct a new political identity that is truly liberating, transformative, and inclusive of all those who stand on the outside of the dominant constructed norm of ­state-​­sanctioned white ­m iddle-​­and ­upper-​­class heterosexuality.10 Africana queer theory in Africana Studies prioritizes a long view of cultural African way(­s) of knowing by (­re)­imagining the interrelationship of spirit and body, higher self and ego and free will and destiny as a liberating perspective and identity that does what Cohen prescribes. The chapter now turns to the discussion of the origins of the discipline of Africana Studies and the significance of African ways of knowing.

The Significance of Cosmology in Africana Studies No locale is more written about concerning the emergence of Africana (­Black) Studies than San Francisco State College. Given the volume of resources on the topic, only a brief review is necessary. Indeed, Africana Studies’ scholars, historians, and sociologists agree that San Francisco State College is the initial locus of student demands that began the international development of departments of Africana Studies as a discipline. Sociologist Nathan Hare, the first chair of Black Studies Department at San Francisco State College and therefore in the world, took a revolutionary nationalist perspective in defining the function of the mission of the department. The basis of this approach is that diasporan Africans are colonial subjects in America, and to overthrow this colonial reality: black people in this country [should] unite, [should] recognize their heritage…. It is a call for black people to define their own goals, to lead their organizations and to support those organizations. It is a call to reject the racist institutions and values of this society.11

130  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

For Hare, then, the new discipline “­must be based on both ideological and pedagogical blackness.”12 The courses directly reflect the revolutionary nationalist ideals of the times. This thrust for development of Black Studies is best highlighted in Hare’s 1970 work “­Questions and Answers About Black Studies,” in which he states that the mission of the discipline is twofold. The ­two-​­prong mission stressed overcoming Africana peoples’ alienation and suffering by their advocating ­self-​ ­determination. Reclaiming a sense of self was the first component of the mission and it sought to “­build in black youth a sense of pride o[f ] self, of collective unity, a sense of pastness as a springboard in the quest for a new and better future.”13 The second component was the revolutionary nationalist component. It sought to “­specifically… prepare black students to deal with their society. The student’s ultimate use of his pragmatic skills can be directed toward overcoming (­or, if need be, ­over-​­throwing) his handicaps in dealing with his society.”14 In the revolutionary nationalist tradition, then, the first Black Studies department in the world and the curriculum sought to provide students with culturally relevant critical thinking skills to restructure diasporan communities’ lived realities. Four main schools of thought emerged among Africana S­tudies-​­oriented scholars and thinkers since the inception of the discipline that have further developed Hare’s “­ideological blackness.” The Asantean Afrocentric school of thought, the Black/­A frican psychology school of thought, the Association for the Study of Classical African Civilizations and A ­ frican-​­centered education school of thought are the most common bodies of knowledge.15 In its variations in spelling, terminology and its often distinctive definitions, the common theme across Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered schools of thought is that scholars can find and utilize African ways of coming to truth and knowledge through African cosmologies (­worldview), symbols, metaphors and histories to define our contemporary reality not only in America but wherever Africana people find themselves.16 Through the work of John Henrik Clarke, Mzee Jedi Shemsu Jehewty ( ­Jacob Carruthers), Molefi Asante, Syed Khatib, Wade Nobles, Linda James Myers, Cheryl Grills and other thinkers within Africana Studies and African/­Black psychology, “­ideological blackness” evolved into A ­ frican-​ c­ entered, Afrocentric, Africentric and A ­ frica-​­centered orientations toward reality. These academics claimed that ancient African ideas about the origin and structure of the universe indeed predate the Maafa (­holocaust and colonialism) and that utilization of these ideas can challenge what A ­ frican-​­centered psychologist Linda James Myers refers to as “­conceptual incarceration created by the dominant [European] worldview.”17 Despite this reclamation of African values to negate Eurocentric ideas, what Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered scholars did not do is tackle head on the heteropatriarchy that greatly informed how the discipline and Africana people defined themselves.18 Thus, African queer theory in the discipline of Africana Studies relies on African cosmology to expand interpretations of genders and sexualities that can help to redress ­a nti-​­queer perspectives in the discipline.

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  131

The significance of African cosmology can be understood based upon examinations of African philosophical thought. The philosophy of the ancient Nile Valley ­inhabitants – ​­the Dogon of Mali, the Dagara of Burkina Faso, the Yoruba of Nigeria and the Bakongo, among o ­ thers – reveals ​­ that the origin of the universe and all within it are interconnected and interdependent and independent, emerging from one source of existence.19 What this means is that human beings are expressions of the source and unfolding of existence and therefore adhere to patterns comprising existence with a destiny or life purpose.20 It is these patterns that influence African peoples’ thoughts and behaviors through what “­appears to be” time and space. Africana queer theory charges Africana scholars then to take seriously that all Africana people, regardless of gender and sexuality, are nothing but divine spirit/­energy beings or as I have written elsewhere, cosmological beings.21

The Problem of the Queer in the Africana World Treatment of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender persons in contemporary African countries, however, seems unsurmountable. Although the prohibitions on “­homosexuality” in most African countries is well published, and not unlike many other countries throughout the world, including in the Caribbean, the possibility of imprisonment and even death or execution for these sex acts is very real and worth reviewing as part of the rationale for an Africana queer theory. Human Rights Campaign data reveals that ­thirty-​­seven countries criminalize ­same-​­sex relations, often referring to homosexual or male ­same-​­sex activity, while governments in Mauritania, Sudan, Somalia and Nigeria “­a llow for the death penalty against LGBT people….”22 In many of these countries, queer people are experiencing discrimination when seeking healthcare and harassment if one is an openly queer activist. They are also experiencing varying degrees of ­gender-​­based violence. According to Amnesty International reporting, in some instances: [l]esbians are more often deliberately targeted for sexual violence. Some deem this practice “­curative” or “­corrective” rape, laboring under the belief that if the victim has sex with a man, she will be “­cured” of being a lesbian. Lesbian girls and women in Cameroon can [also] be forced into heterosexual relationships and condemned to double lives.23 If there is documented evidence that precolonial African philosophical traditions define that a worldview exists and that all humans are expressions of a source of existence and divine spirit/­energy beings, then why such criminalization and violent treatment of queer folks? Researchers on a­ nti-​­queer legislation have also documented the rationale for these views. Many ­t wenty-­​­­first-​­century continental African presidents and citizens support ­anti-​­lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender violence and legislation,

132  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

because to participate in homosexual sex is not only a sin but not of Africans’ own making. Not unlike most Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered scholars, in the mind of many contemporary Africans, homosexuality is not an African cultural behavior. According to this line of thinking, Africans only began “­behaving” this way since ­n ineteenth-​­century European colonizers introduced these sexual practices into African cultural communities.24 Though Dagaran spiritualist Sobonfu Somé, for instance, agrees that how the West defines queer gender and sexuality may, in fact, be very different from normative ideas about sex and sexuality among African cultural groupings, such harsh legislation and attitudes are a fairly recently new phenomena. For it is well documented that during the colonial period, European colonial governments created the first laws against ­same-​­sex sexual relations.25 It is therefore colonialism coupled with Christian missionary notions about sin that has come to be the determining reference for legislation and inhumane treatment against African lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender or queer persons.26 Lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and intersex persons in South America and the Caribbean have similar experiences. ­Same-​­sex relationships in every country in South America, except for Guyana, are no longer criminal offenses. Since 2011, s­ ame-​­sex behavior is legal in Brazil and Argentina. However, the torture and murder of trans women of Latina and African descent in Catholic and Protestant Brazil are still the most numerous in the world. 27 Most of the governments in the Caribbean islands still have prohibitions on “­sodomy,” and Jamaicans in particular are not far behind Brazilians in their tolerance of violent responses to n ­ on-​­heterosexual and gender variant expressions, given the c­ enturies-​­old ­a nti-​­sodomy laws that still demand prosecution for “­homosexual” anal penetration.28 While Caribbean scholars writing on gender, sexuality and the law link a­nti-​­homosexuality and homophobia to European colonial legislation, several writers conclude that Christian thought also informs normative views around gender variation and sexuality, not unlike in Africa and in America. In America, diasporan lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender adults and youth fare only slightly better than queer persons in many neocolonial African countries and in other parts of the diaspora. The Supreme Court ruled in 2003 that state a­ nti-​­sodomy legislation is unconstitutional. S­ ame-​­sex marriage is now legal in all states since June 26, 2015 Supreme Court decision. There are over one million lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender diasporan Africans in America, but despite both legislations, queer diasporans continue to experience high rates of societal and familial discrimination, lack of employment security, inadequate health care, homelessness and religious intolerance because of white supremacist heteropatriarchy.29 One of the most disturbing effects is that Diasporan queer youth are frequently verbally harassed and often physically assaulted because of their orientation and/­or gender expression, according to the queer research think tank, the National Black Justice Coalition.30 If parents or guardians of diasporan queer youth create an unsupportive environment for them, oftentimes these

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  133

youth are at a higher risk for homelessness.31 In fact, the latest statistics indicate that 20%–​­40% of homeless youth are queer, and a very high percentage of this population is diasporan African queer youth.32 Another disturbing effect of heteropatriarchy is the physical violence toward the queer community, especially toward transgender women, which is e­ver-​ ­present despite more visibility of transgender folks in popular culture. The rise of transwoman activist and news host Janet Mock, author of the 2014 Redefining Realness, and queer activist and Orange is the New Black’s Laverne Cox for example indicates to some extent that awareness of the humanity of queer folks in general and transgender/­gender ­non-​­conforming persons in general is slowly on the rise. But, of course, with visibility comes resistance and such is the case with murder of this population. According to the latest Human Rights Campaign data: In 2016, advocates tracked at least 23 deaths of transgender people in the United States due to fatal violence, the most ever recorded. These victims were killed by acquaintances, partners and strangers, some of whom have been arrested and charged, while others have yet to be identified. Some of these cases involve clear ­anti-​­transgender bias. In others, the victim’s transgender status may have put them at risk in other ways, such as forcing them into homelessness. While the details of these cases differ, it is clear that fatal violence disproportionately affects transgender women of color, and that the intersections of racism, sexism, homophobia and transphobia conspire to deprive them of employment, housing, healthcare and other necessities, barriers that make them vulnerable. Sadly, 2017 has already seen at least 28 transgender people fatally shot or killed by other violent means.33

The Problem of the Queer in Afrocentric/­­African-​­Centered Literature: A Rationale for an Africana Queer Theory How specifically have Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered Africana Studies scholars responded to the late ­t wentieth-​­ and early ­t wenty-­​­­fi rst-​­century life experiences of African and diasporan queer folks? If one stays true to the ­A frican-​­centered literature, the common response has echoed the sentiments taken by ­a nti-​­queer governments, clergy and communities. Two schools of thought have provided the main thrust for how contemporary Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered scholars think about queer folks. The foundational work informing an A ­ santean-​ s­pecific Afrocentric stance on queer experiences in Africana Studies is Molefi Asante’s Afrocentricity. The African psychological school of thought provides the second major thrust of ­a nti-​­queer thought in the discipline. Combined, both schools best explain the larger response to and perspective on African and diasporan queer realities and life chances, providing further rationale for the development of a new theory. Given that theorists across disciplines have long since critiqued Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered discourse for heterosexism, 34 this section is brief.

134  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

In the 1988 edition of Afrocentricity, there is a clear distinction between one who is Afrocentric and one who is homosexual. To be Afrocentric, one has “­total commitment to African liberation anywhere and everywhere by a consistent determined effort to repair any psychic, economic, physical or cultural damage done to Africans.”35 This damage occurs because of the legacy of the Maafa and residence in an oppressive alien environment. Repairing this damage, then, requires that one must constantly negotiate which thoughts and behaviors, and I will add desires here, reflect the best interest of African liberation and those that do not. In clear terms, Asante writes that “­homosexuality is a deviation from Afrocentric thought because it makes the person evaluate his own physical needs above the teachings of national consciousness.”36 But what is Asante’s rationale for declaring that ­same-​­sex desire and transformative healing of diasporan Africans from the effects of white supremacy are in opposition with one another? It is the incarceration of men in the prison industrial complex that is the cause of increasing amounts of diasporan cisgender males participating in homosexual behaviors in which to quench the natural human inclination for sexual experience without the presence of biological females. In fact, prison “­breeds” ­homosexuals.37 Homosexuality is therefore s­ame-​­sex behavior in which only biological males participate out of environmental necessity, and therefore, if one resides in a normal, natural environment where the diasporan biological females are present, homosexuality would be unnecessary. Therefore, all sexual desire and behavior between biological males whether occurring in prison or not is unnatural and the Afrocentric vanguard of scholars, activists and community members “­must demonstrate a real antagonism toward those gays who are as unconscious as other people.”38 In the 2003 edition of Afrocentricity, persons who are homosexual can be Afrocentric. First, the text extends the meaning of who can be a homosexual. The homosexual can now either be gay or lesbian and these designations read as “­sexual preferences and orientations.”39 Second, in addition to the use of these terms, he also concedes that to be gay or lesbian can be political. However, gays and lesbians must prioritize their political commitments if they seek to be Afrocentric. Is one committed to the liberation of oppression from heterosexism and homophobia or is one committed to the liberation of African people from white supremacy, he asks. Given its significance, I will quote at length: If we take the paradigm of location as a starting place, we see that the gay and lesbian communities often place their sexual preferences and orientations before their nationalism. The simple question for any of us is, “­How do you organize your work?” If a person is gay or lesbian but organizes work around the question of culture and racial identification and collective solidarity this is an achievement of nationalism. It is not gay nationalism or lesbian nationalism, but nationalism, the idea of ­self-​­determination for African people as a group because African people as a group have been oppressed collectively. Our initial oppression is not because we are gay or lesbian,

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  135

but because we are black. Where do we stand becomes the primary question of place.40 If you are gay or lesbian and work to reclaim African culture and values in the face of white supremacy, then one can be Afrocentric. But activism, writing, teaching and the like around the life chances of diasporan lesbian and gays mentioned in the previous section, for example, are not part of the liberation of the African and diasporan community as a whole. Unwilling to foster an inclusive model of African liberation that interprets white supremacy as the source of heterosexism and homophobia, Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered scholars who continue to adhere to this line of thinking do not heed Collins’s warning about the incorrect belief that “­Black women are affected by gender and Black men are not, and lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered Black people are affected by sexuality and heterosexual Blacks are not” (­emphasis added).41 In the final analysis, even if a queer diasporan person challenges white supremacy by laboring on behalf of the liberation of the collective African community and sees the world from an A ­ frican-​­epistemological standpoint, they can never be truly Afrocentric because their gender identity and/­or sexuality falls outside the organic order of human nature and behavior. The text reads, “­in the end the judgment must be made to support the development of positive and effective relationships, knowing full well that the optimum relationship, this historical relationship, the biologically natural relationship is between men and women” (­emphasis added).42 The major conclusion in the ­A frican-​­centered psychology school of thought is that queer persons are mentally ill. In one of the earliest works on the mental illness of lesbian and gay persons of African descent is “­Mental Disorders of African Americans” written by ­A frican-​­centered psychologist Na’im Akbar. As the title of piece states, the work defines what is and what is not mentally healthy for African people in America. This critique is essential because Africans on the continent and in the diaspora have suffered through the Maafa and therefore are not only trying to recover from the legacy of enslavement, segregation and Western proscriptions of what insanity is for African people living under these conditions, but also to determine what it means to be human in an oppressive environment like America. To this end, Akbar redefines mental health in a way that is distinct from Western/­Eurocentric psychological/­psychiatric definitions but in line with how one processes physical health; for “­physical illness,” he writes, “­is identified when forces or processes within the physical body begin to threaten the nature disposition to live.”43 Given this point, he continues, “­a mental disorder within the Africana psyche is any behavior or idea which threatens the survival of the collective self (­or tribe).”44 A pervasive illness that impacts the survival of the individual and collective self is the ­a lien-​­self mental disorder.45 It has been theorized that prior to enslavement and colonialism, Africans developed a perspective of reality that centered on the source of the material world being that which is energy and spirit; the

136  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

two realms were interrelated and interdependent. It is this perspective that was compromised during the Maafa in both continental and diasporan communities to some extent. When diasporans prioritize the material reality (­consumptive goods) as that which defines the value and the purpose of existence, one then participates in what Akbar defines as the ­a lien-​­self disorder46; in other words, one tries to take on the values found most valuable to one’s oppressors and denies the existence of white supremacy in the world. One is therefore living in conflict with and denial of one’s African ancestral and diasporan self; one lives “­in between” both views of reality. The struggle of living “­in between” both views of reality can lead to the same unresolved conclusions around sexuality. The example Akbar uses locates the family, who too suffers from ­a lien-​­self disorder, as source of the emergence of homosexual propensity in some diasporan males. He writes: this type of male homosexual has usually been raised to deny his own masculine disposition because the assertiveness that characterizes boyish emergence was viewed as potentially threatening by the dominant culture and by his confused family circle who points to alien (­­non-​­Black) role models for him to emulate.47 There is this inner all essential defining masculinity, an interpretation that is in the line with conservative biological scientific thought.48 To be biologically male means to be masculine (­read: aggressive) and to be masculine means to be heterosexual and there is a particular essential type of masculinity that distinguishes not only queer from straight, but African from European. The diasporan female too suffers from the imposition of Western ideals of gender espoused by American culture; she can never reach the Western ideal of femininity and therefore becomes a lesbian in order to find value in herself by “­being acceptable to another woman.”49 What Akbar concludes is that “[b]oth the male and female in these instances are encouraged to restrain their natural dispositions that merely generalizes to their sexuality resulting in a disorder that perpetuates a pattern disruptive to natural (­reproductive) family functioning.”50 It seems that what is really at stake, and the crux of why some lesbians and gays are diagnosed as having ­a lien-​­self disorder, is their inability to produce offspring, which extends themselves while also contributing to the survival of the African world community. However, since Akbar does suggest that there are some gays and lesbians who are not suffering from this mental disorder, is he suggesting that some diasporan queers are living as mentally healthy Africans in America? And if queer folks either birth and/­or raise children, are they mentally healthy? ­A frican-​­centered psychologist Daudi Azibo suggests absolutely not. In his initial and most recent Nosology, he painstakingly defines what he terms sexual misorientation, a criterion which includes not only lesbian and gay realities, but he equates these identities and orientations with bestiality and sex obsession.51 To do this, he first defines mental health for African and African diasporans. Like

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  137

Akbar, his definition of mental health is grounded in the idea that there is a distinction between normative African and European mental functioning. Optimal mental health, therefore, is “­that psychological and behavioral functioning that is in accord with the basic nature of the original human nature and its attendant cosmology and survival thrust” (­emphasis added).52 What this means is that there has been a particular way that African people across time and space have perceived the origin and structure of existence and attempted to create reality accordingly. So African and diasporan mental health ensues when African people, regardless of time and geography, adhere to beliefs, values and behaviors that are evidenced within ancient and traditional African narratives, myths, philosophies and cosmologies, which are reflective of the observation of the natural world/­ nature.53 Lesbian and gay identities and bisexuality, among other “­perversities” according to the Nosology, are neither evident in the animal world nor in nature. And rightly so, because traditional African cultures observed nature and created reality in accordance with nature; there is also no evidence, similar to the rationale for many continental African ­anti-​­queer sentiments and legislation mentioned in the previous section, for ­non-​­heterosexual behavior in traditional African communities.54 One can, however, contemplate if one is lesbian, gay, bisexual or the like and not suffer from sexual misorientation; it is just the act of sex that determines an affirmative diagnosis.55

Toward an Africana Queer Theory In this concluding section, I return to Ron Simmons’s call for the (­re)­examination of African epistemologies and ways of knowing to (­re)­interpret and (­re)­think what it means to be lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender in our contemporary moment. To the best of my knowledge, there are at least two ­self-​­identified Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered theorists, myself and H. Sharif Herukhuti Williams, who are trying to do just that. In one of Williams’s most recent essays, “­Introduction to Afrocentric Decolonizing Kweer Theory and Epistemology of the Erotic,” his central claim is a refreshing method. Scripted for scholars, therapists and other practitioners to understand the meaning and functions of genders, sexualities and relationships, he proposes using specific, tangible and available methods that are used among the Akan Nana, the Yoruba Ifa Babalawo, the Zulu Sangoma and the like.56 Utilizations of these African ways of knowing, in effect, help all involved in these ritual processes come to understand the spiritual nature of their gender, sexuality, sexual experiences and relationships.57 My attempt at moving toward an Africana queer theology for Africana Studies is in line with this thinking. What are the parameters of Africana queer theory? This theory is both corrective and reconstructive. First, it proposes interpretations for understanding the humanity of Africana lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people who experience alienation and suffering because of heteropatriarchal power that is part and parcel of white supremacy domination, European worldview orientation

138  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

and unfortunately, A ­ frican-​­centered thought in the discipline.58 Second, it seeks to offer ways of thinking about the significance of genders and sexualities in the human experience and in relationship to documented theories about existence. Cosmology, as one epistemology in the African world, has been affirmed, explained and utilized within Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered Africana Studies as one of the components that, in fact, defines the discipline as Africana, as mentioned in the previous section and can therefore be our starting point.59 So this section begins from where ­A frican-​­centered theorists leave off and refuse to go. Africana queer theory looks to African philosophy as foundational resource. It relies on primary and secondary materials. Some of the most accessible written works are African philosophical writings on Kemetic (­ancient Egyptian), Bakongo (­Central Africa), Akan (­Ghana), Fon (­Benin), Yoruba and Igbo (­Nigeria), Dagara (­Burkina Faso), Dogon (­Mali) and Zulu (­South African) cosmologies and personality constructs. From the diaspora, sources are ­ever-​­present from writers within and outside of Africana Studies. With visible roots in and synthesis from the above philosophical traditions as a result of the Maafa, cosmologies in Santeria (­Cuba/­Puerto Rico/­US), Vodun (­Haiti/­US) and Candomble (­Brazil/­US) and possibly some interpretations of creation in the Black theological tradition in America, may prove to be viable sources. Because many continental and diasporan African people throughout the world still continue to practice all of these philosophies through “­living spiritual traditions,” primary methods in the form of experiential and autoethnographical processes, including meditation, embodiment, trance states and the like, similar to what Williams has already outlined, are also sources.60 Of particular significance of these philosophies and living traditions is for one to interpret cosmology. That is, the foundation of theory in this area is to (­1) interpret the ways African people within these cultural, spiritual communities have written about, lived and continue to experience what comprises the origins and structure of the universe and (­2) examine these philosophical systems for what comprises the human personality, including ideas about human destiny. In doing so, it may be possible for theorists in Africana Studies to begin to rethink the extent to which varying gender embodiments, sexualities and desires are no longer alien, unAfrican and abnormal, but nothing more than destined manifestations of the way spirit/­energy moves and expresses itself within/­as particular bodies.61 Africana queer theory is not necessarily concerned with the question of whether lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender experiences and identities existed in African communities before the coming of Europe per se. I do agree that there is a need for ­A frican-​­centered historical approaches to this question, as Williams makes clear, and therefore historical/­anthropological work should unquestionably be included in Africana queer theory canon.62 The use of cosmology as an African way of knowing, however, may shift the question from historical evidence to contemporary and future possibilities. This notion, I think, is more in line with the objectives of Black Queer Studies, a field concerned with new interpretations.

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  139

For instance, writers on ancient Nile Valley cultural formations explain that the inundation of the Nile River produced uncultivated vegetation, making the sedentary Neolithic lifestyle possible.63 Human cultivation of agriculture made procreation of offspring necessary to maintain the mode of production for survival of the ­self-​­family; in turn, the act of human procreation resembled the immediate environment, which continued to “­create” and sustain itself.64 What is now defined as heterosexuality very well could have been the ideal. However, an examination of several African cosmological systems indicate that the universe and all within in it, including humanity, are constantly expanding and unfolding from the source of existence.65 If this is the case, what may or may not have existed in identities, behaviors, desires and experiences occurring in the past, because of the environment necessities of that particular period, may have the potential to emerge and unfold over time and space, including in our contemporary moment, especially where sexuality and relationships are concerned given the brief example above. Thus, extensive historical evidence may be difficult to obtain; it is therefore not the immediate priority of Africana queer theory. An example of the futures and possibilities that Africana queer theory can produce is the cosmological interactive ­self-​­framework. The framework relies on the Anu (­Heliopolis) version of the origin and structure of the universe that was pervasive in Lower Kemet in the Nile Valley region during the sixth dynasty, circa ­2300–​­2100 BCE.66 A humble attempt at employing cosmology, the piece, “­Towards an ­A frican-​­centered Sociological Approach to Africana Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, and Intersexed Identities and Performances: The Kemetic Model of the Cosmological Interactive Self,” was experimental. The most significant ideas within the piece are that Nu, the one source of existence, is oneness with unlimited potential in/­as creation. The creative process of existence is cyclical and Maat is the reciprocal order of existence; these three components are the template through which the phenomenal realm, including humanity, continuously comes into being and continuously sustains it/­oneself.67 The Kemetic layers of the personality, the ka (­ego), the ba (­­higher-​­self/­soul), the ab (­memory storehouse) and the kht (­body) are an interconnected network of spirit/­energy that function in the life of each human being in accordance with Nu and Maat across life times, given the ongoing cyclical process of existence. The piece concludes that a Kemetic/­­African-​­centered approach can be used to understand possibilities of meaning for all genders and sexualities, not just lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and intersex persons. One must consider that, given the working of the universe perceived by the ancient Anu, the kht (­body) can be born into the phenomenal realm as male, female or intersex bodies across lifetimes. Furthermore, each person embodies a Ba (­­higher-​­self/­soul) that has been defined as “­gendered” by human conception (­read: gender of Ntru [deities]); however, given that the source of the Ba (­­higher-​­self/­soul) is Nu and Nu is undifferentiated spirit/­energy, the organic state of all humanity is therefore genderless; hence, genders are human creations, as the source of existence is just

140  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

spirit/­energy. And finally, all relationships, desires and experiences (­sex) occur between “­attracted” complimentary opposite Ba (­h igherself/­soul) in accordance with Maat.68 Therefore using the cosmological interactive ­self-​­framework, each human being is: 1 A projection of the source of existence that is ­non-​­gendered, but inherently filled with oneness and unlimited potential. 2 A projected entity that has particular overarching qualities that determine ­macro-​­experiences in accordance with the ebb and flow of complimentary opposites. 3 A body that is an expression of complimentary opposites, oneness and unlimited possibilities. 4 A being that has sexual attractions for the purpose of slowly moving toward healing from the feelings, thoughts and experiences housed within the ab and thereby limiting its impact on the ka, regardless of biological similarities or differences. 5 Always on a path to understand the ba self, life purpose and destiny regardless of ­so-​­called gender, gender identity and performance or s­ame-​­sex desire.69 This framework is just the start of rigorous theoretical reinterpretations to (­re)­new knowledge. Africana queer theory also concerns itself with using articulations of destiny and the spiritual world to understand the spiritual astuteness and rethink destinies of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people in Africa and the diaspora. This body of work is well underway by often quoted Dagaran spiritualists Malidoma and Sobonfu Some’ and reinterpreted in Williams’s “­Bodeme in Harlem: An African Diasporic Autoethnography.” 70 What they propose is that the Dagaran bodeme (­shaman) in Burkina Faso are mediums, the gatekeepers, to the Other world(­s).71 Although the bodeme participate in “­heterosexual” marriages, they have ­self-​­reported attractions to the same sex; but whether they act on these desires or not are unknown. Bodeme, however, is their destiny in their community and ­same-​­sex attraction may be the result of the high vibration of their spirit. For the bodeme “­are not only in contact with the elemental gates, but also with many others. They have one foot in all the other worlds and the other foot here.” 72 In doing so, they give the Dagara community access to the spiritual worlds for the process of healing. Other research conducted this century evidences the existence of Zulu sangomas (­shamans) who, on the one hand, are in communion with their ancestors and, on the other hand, also live in ­same-​­sex intimate/­sexual relationships.73 According to the sangoma, this attraction and relationship is part of their spiritual makeup and therefore destiny.74 Could the contemporary bodeme and sangoma experiences begin to explain the contemporary manifestations of intense queer club culture (­ritual) in the diaspora and, of course, the exceedingly active participation of diasporan queer people in all levels of church rituals

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  141

and performances, from the pulpit to the choir director? Furthermore, the gangas (­shamans) in Angola and Namibia are male diviners who embody “­female” energy/­spirits, often adorning themselves in ritual clothing reflecting the female energy/­spirit working with him.75 Given this brief example here, how does the destiny of a ganga who embodies spirits/­energies of another “­gender” begin to hint toward the possibility of a consistent embodiment of spirit/­energy? That is, can we use this ritual for explaining some manifestations of transgender and/­or gender ­non-​­conforming gender identities in diasporan communities?

Conclusion In constructing an Africana queer theory, then, one will need to undertake serious study of African interpretations of the cosmos and embrace new questions. Some starting questions for research in Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered Africana Studies might include: • • •

• • •

•

•

What is the source of existence and the structure of existence? What is a human being in ancient and traditional African cosmology? What is the personality and the soul in ancient and traditional African cosmology and how does spirit manifest in the creation and animation of the body? What is the body in cosmological terms? How does the source of existence within varying cosmologies present possibilities for reinterpreting gender? How does the source of existence within varying cosmologies present possibilities for interpreting the existence of intersexed and transgendered bodies? To what extent can cosmologies explain particular overarching qualities that may determine sexual identity and attraction? In what ways do cosmologies provide insight into the relationship between identity, attraction and destiny? What, in fact, is “­sexual” attraction in cosmological terms? What can embodiment of forces comprising existence (­being ridden by spirit) during varying traditional religious rituals inform us about the androgynous nature of gender?76 This chapter charges all who are interested to create new c­osmological-​ ­based questions through which to create theory that will aid in moving away from white supremacist hegemonic ideals about gender, sex and sexuality and turn to the African ways of knowing to define and interpret queer African and diasporan people’s divine ­spirit-​­filled mission.

Notes 1 Although the discipline emerges in 1968 under the name Black Studies, contemporary departments and programs use Black Studies, ­A fro-​­American Studies, African American Studies, ­Pan-​­African Studies, African Diaspora Studies, Africology and Africana Studies. I use Africana Studies here to refer to both continental and diasporan Africans wherever one resides in the world. See: John Henrik Clarke, “­A fricana

142  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Studies: A Decade of Change, Challenge and Conflict,” in James Turner (­ed.), The Next Decade: Theoretical and Research Issues in Africana Studies (­Ithaca, NY: Africana Research and Research Center, 1984), ­31–​­45. 2 It is to Dr. Kaila Adia Story whom we all owe much love to for her fearless refusal to be silent around issues of patriarchy, sexism, heterosexism and homophobia in Afrocentric/­­African-​­centered literature once she entered the graduate program in African American Studies at Temple University. 3 Much thanks to H. Sharif Herukhuti Williams and his brilliant piece on Afrocentric Kweer theory in which he introduced me to Ron Simmons’s work. It is in the tradition of both Simmons’s and Williams’s daring works that I attempt to write this piece. 4 E. Patrick Johnson, ed., No Tea, No Shade: New Writings in Black Queer Studies: A Critical Anthology (­Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2016). 5 Sekhmet Maat, “­Towards an A ­ frican-​­centered Approach to Africana Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersexed, Identities and Desire: The Kemetic Model of the Cosmological Interactive Self,” Critical Sociology 40(­2), 2014: ­239–​­56. 6 David Ross Fryer, “­A frican American Queer Studies,” in Lewis Gordon and Jane Gordon (­eds.), A Companion to A ­ frican -​­American Studies (­Malden: ­Wiley-​­Blackwell, 2007), 306. 7 E. Patrick Johnson and Mae G. Henderson (­eds.), Black Queer Studies: A Critical Anthology (­Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2005). 8 Ibid. 9 Cathy J. Cohen, “­Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens: The Radical Potential of Queer Politics?” in Johnson and Henderson, (­eds.), Black Queer Studies, ­21–​­51. 10 Ibid., 25. 11 Stokely Carmichael and Charles V. Hamilton, Black Power: Politics of Liberation in America (­New York: Vintage, 1967), 44. 12 Nathan Hare, “­W hat Should Be the Role of ­A fro-​­American education in the Undergraduate Curriculum?” in John W Blassingame (­ed.), New Perspectives on Black Studies (­Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 1971), 13. 13 Nathan Hare, “­Questions and Answers about Black Studies,” in Nathaniel Norment (­ed.), The African American Studies Reader (­Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press, 2001), 16. 14 Ibid. 15 Sekhmet Maat and Karanja Keita Carroll, “­­African-​­centered Theory and Methodology in Africana Studies: An Introduction,” The Journal of Pan African Studies 5(­4), 2012: ­4 –​­6. 16 Molefi Kete Asante, Afrocentricity (­Trenton: African World Press, 1988); Jacob H. Carruthers, Intellectual Warfare (­Chicago, IL: Third World Press, 1999); Jacob H. Carruthers, “­Introduction,” in Jacob H. Carruthers and Leon C. Harris (­eds.), African World History Project: The Preliminary Challenge (­ L os Angeles, CA: The Association for the Study of Classical African Civilizations, 2002), ­1–​­5; Kobi K. K. Kambon, African/­B lack Psychology in the American Context: An ­African-​­Centered Approach (­ Tallahassee: Nubian Nation Publications, 1998); Daudi D. Azibo, “­A rticulating the Distinction between Black Studies and the Study of Blacks: The Fundamental Role of Culture and the ­A frican-​­centered Worldview,” in Norment (­ed.), The African American Studies Reader. 17 Linda James Myers, “­Optimal Theory and the Philosophical and Academic Origins of Black Studies,” in Norment (­ed.), The African American Studies Reader, 296. 18 Cheryl Clarke, “­The Failure to Transform: Homophobia in the Black Community,” in Barbara Smith (­ed.), Home Girls: A Black Feminist Anthology (­New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2000), ­190–​­201. 19 Azibo, “­A rticulating the Distinction,” ­423–​­25. 20 Ra un Nefer Amen, Metu Neter Vol. 1 (­Brooklyn, NY: Kamit, 1990); Muata Ashby, The Egyptian Book of the Dead (­M iami: Cruzian Mystic Books, 2000); Edward Bruce Bynum, The African Unconscious (­New York: Teachers College Press, 1999).

Toward Africana Queer Theory in Africana Studies  143

2 1 Maat, “­Towards an ­A frican-​­centered Approach to Africana Lesbian,” 16. 22 Jason Rahlan and Mary Elizabeth Margolis, “­H RC Foundation and Human Rights First Release Joint Report on LGBTAfrica,” Human Rights Campaign, last modified July 11, 2014, http://­w ww.humanrightsfirst.org/­sites/­default/­fi les/­­H RF-­​­­H RC-­​ ­­A frica-​­Report.pdf. 23 “­A mnesty International: Amnesty International Facts and Figures, accessed October 23, 2017, https://­w ww.amnestyusa.org/­fi les/­­making_love_a_crime_-​­_ facts__figures.pdf. 24 Masiiwa Ragies Gunda, The Bible and Homosexuality in Zimbabwe (­Bamberg: Bamberg, 2010), 399. 25 Sobonfu Some,’ Spirit of Intimacy: Ancient Teachings in the Ways of Relationships (­New York: Harper Collins, 2000); Margarete Aarmo, “­How Homosexuality became “­­ Un-​­African:” The Case of Zimbabwe,” in Evelyn Blackwood and Saskia E. Wieringa (­eds.), Female Desires: Same Sex Relations and Transgender Practices across Cultures (­New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), 261. 26 Gunda, The Bible and Homosexuality in Zimbabwe, Ibid. 27 “­ International Transgender Day of Remembrance,” accessed December 4, 2017, https://­tdor.info. 28 Human ­Meeks-​­Gardner, Avril Daley, & Claudette ­Crawford-​­Brown, “­Issues of Violence in the Caribbean,” in Frederick Hickling et al. (­eds.), Perspectives in Caribbean Psychology (­K ingston: Caribbean Institute of Mental Health and Abuse, 2008), 430. 29 “­Human Rights Campaign: Being African American  & LGBTQ: An Introduction,” accessed December 4, 2017, https://­w ww.hrc.org/­resources/­­being-­​­­a frican­​­­a merican-­​­­lgbtq-­​­­a n-​­i ntroduction. 30 “­National Black Justice Coalition: Safe and Inclusive Schools,” accessed April 2015, http://­nbjc.org/­issues/­­safe-­​­­i nclusive-​­schools. 31 Michelle Page, “­Forgotten Youth: Homeless LGBT Youth of Color and the Runaway and Homeless Youth Act,” Northwestern Journal of Law and Social Policy 12(­2), 2017: ­18–​­19, https://­scholarlycommons.law.northwestern.edu/­cgi/­v iewcontent. cgi?article=1150&context=njlsp. 32 Ibid. 33 “­Human Rights Campaign: Violence against the Transgender Community in 2017,” accessed December 20, 2017, https://­w ww.hrc.org/­resources/­­v iolence-­​­­against-­​­­the­​­­t ransgender-­​­­community-­​­­i n-​­2017. 34 Patricia H. Collins, Black Sexual Politics (­New York: Routledge, 2005), ­46–​­47. 35 Asante, Afrocentricity, 50. 36 Ibid. 37 Ibid. 38 Ibid. 39 Molefi Asante, Afrocentricity (­Sauk Village: African American Images, 2003), 72. 40 Ibid. 41 Collins, Black Sexual Politics, 47. 42 Asante, Afrocentricity, (­2003), 74. 43 Na’im Akbar, Akbar Papers in Black Psychology (­Tallahassee: Mind Productions, 2004), 164. 4 4 Ibid. 45 Ibid. 46 Ibid.,165. 47 Ibid.,167. 48 Robert L. Crooks and Karla Baur, Our Sexuality (­Belmont, CA: Thomson Wadsworth, 2005), 46. 49 Akbar, Akba Papers, 167. 50 Ibid. 51 Daudi Azibo, “­The Azibo Nosology II: Epexegesis and 25th Anniversary Update: 55 ­Culture-​­focused Mental Disorders Suffered by African Descent People,” Journal of Pan African Studies 7(­5), 2014: 76.

144  Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

52 Daudi Ajani Azibo, “­­African-​­centered Theses on Mental Health and a Nosology of Black/­A frican Personality Disorder,” Journal of Black Psychology 15(­2), 1989: 177. 53 Ibid., ­173–​­214. 54 Ibid., ­187–​­90. 55 Azibo, “­The Azibo Nosology II,” 72. 56 H. Sharif Herukhuti Williams, “­Introduction to Afrocentric Decolonizing Kweer Theory and Epistemology of the Erotic,” Journal of Black Sexuality and Relationships 2(­4), 2016: ­20–​­26. 57 Ibid., 25. 58 Ibid., ­1–​­26. 59 Azibo, “­A rticulating the Distinction,” ­421–​­26. 60 Williams, “­Introduction to Afrocentric Decolonizing Kweer Theory,” ­20–​­26. 61 Maat, “­­A frican-​­centered Approach,” ­10–​­12. 62 Williams, “­Introduction to Afrocentric Decolonizing Kweer Theory,” 9. 63 Cheikh Anta Diop, Civilization or Barbarism: An Authentic Anthropology (­New York: Lawrence Hill Books, 1991); Wosene Yefru, Nile Valley Civilization (­Nashville: Pollock, 2016), ­146–​­53. 64 Ibid. 65 Amen, Metu, ­1–​­40. 66 Molefi Asante and Abu Abarry (­eds.), African Intellectual Heritage (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1996), 14. 67 Maat, “­Towards an ­A frican-​­centered Approach to Africana Lesbian,” ­7–​­16. 68 Ibid. 69 Ibid., 16. 70 H. Sharif Herukhuti Williams, “­Bodeme in Harlem: An African Diasporic Autoethnography,” Journal of Bisexuality 10, 2010: ­64–​­78; Some’, Spirit of Intimacy, 135. 71 Ibid. 72 Ibid. 73 Ruth Morgan and Graeme Reid, “­I’ve Got Two Men and One Woman: Ancestors, Sexuality and Identity among S­ ame-​­Sex Identified Women Traditional Healers in South Africa,” Culture, Health and Sexuality 5, 2003: ­375–​­91; Busangokwakhe Dlamini, “­Homosexuality in the African Context,” Agenda: Empowering Women for Gender Equity 67, 2006: ­128–​­36. 74 Marc Epprecht, “­ Religion and Same Sex Relations in Africa,” in Elias Kifon Bongmba (­ed.), ­Wiley-​­Blackwell Companion to African Religions (­Malden, MA: W ­ iley-​ ­Blackwell, 2012), ­515–​­28. 75 Ibid. 76 Sekhmet Maat, “­Towards an Africana Queer Theology” (­Master’s thesis, LPTS, 2015), 51.

9 COLONIAL HISTORY AND DOCUMENTARY SOURCES Insights from Southern Nigeria Bright Chiazam Alozie

Introduction Following the Berlin conference of ­1884–​­85, Britain established in effective occupation of most regions of Africa.1 Nigeria became clearly marked as part of the British Empire, a major colonial holding, with Lagos having already been declared a British protectorate in 1851. From then onwards, Britain began her penetration and conquest of Nigeria. By 1890, the British had already advanced into Igboland in Southern Nigeria by first conquering the Ngwa people of the region and by the early 1900, most Igbo village groups had been effectively occupied by ­so-​­called treaty and/­or by war. British presence in Igboland was established way back in 1890 when coastal traders of Bonny and Opobo, expanding their business interests into Ngwaland, had encounters with the Akwete. Already, the British had advanced into Igboland through the ­Opobo-​­Bonny front. By 1890 or so, the states of the Oil Rivers had ceased to pose a serious threat to British imperial intentions. In fact, to such an extent had these states accepted British imperium that British consuls came to see it as part of their legitimate duties to champion and advance the interest of the coastal traders, especially of Bonny and Opobo, in Southern Igboland.2 Thus when in 1890 Bonny traders complained of encountering, at Akwete, resistance to the expansion of their business, the Acting Consul Annesley mobilized his i­ll-​­trained constabulary for the purpose of teaching Igbo state how unwise it was to stand in the way of British interests. This first encounter between the British and an Igbo state ended in a victory for Akwete. Annesley and his forces, popularly known as the “­Forty Thieves,” were routed with a number of them killed.3 The following year, 1891, the administration of the Protectorate was put on a regular basis with Sir Claude Macdonald as High Commissioner and Consul General. In October 1891, Sir Macdonald visited Akwete and took up the unsettled dispute with the Akwete elders. The DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-12

146  Bright Chiazam Alozie

Akwete elders proved reconciliatory and that amicable contact established with Macdonald matured in 1892 into a treaty of protection between Akwete and the protectorate administration. From this British ­toe-​­hold at Akwete, officers of the protectorate started scouring the peripheral towns of Southern Igboland, especially villages in Asa, Ndoki and Ngwa. Thus, British presence and influence became firmly established and they focused their attention on bringing the entire Igboland under their effective colonial administration. No doubt, the study of colonial rule in Africa has attracted varying degrees of scholarly interests. Several scholars have investigated aspects of the problem of British rule in Igboland and have enriched our knowledge of this period in Igbo history.4 Despite the growing literature on the colonialism in Africa, there are still gaps to be filled in the study of the colonial encounter in Africa, especially in relation to the silenced histories of the local people or even the few untold stories of European colonial activities in Africa. This study is part of the ongoing contribution to the African side of the story as it seeks to understand the nature of relations and interactions between the British and the Igbo people during colonial rule through the study of petitions. Moreover, the researcher on African colonial history will always battle with the fact that in popular literature, the relationship painted has been that of colonizer and victim, in which case, the local people were subjects and/­or victims without right of say or expression whatsoever during the period. These points of view have been advanced and canvassed by early European colonial writers and have even been endorsed subsequently and uncritically by Nigerian scholars. In fact, this view has been chanted like a hymn throughout Igboland and quite an unfortunate irony that it continues to be recycled even by the most unlikely persons. As Njoku noted: the temptation to hymn without verification a popular rhyme is strong and real. Many people actually fall victim to it. But this is a recipe for perpetuating stereotypical myths and ignorance. Neither scholarship nor knowledge is advanced by ­band-​­wagon posturing. We can only advance nearer truth by posing searching but neglected questions and by attempting honest answers to them.5 This chapter dissents from and challenges such stereotypes and stands with the more nuanced historical interpretation of the colonial period in Africa. This approach considers both players in the field, the colonial masters and the colonized peoples, as part of an ongoing dialogue and negotiation encounter during the period under study. To this end, certain questions are relatable: what do petitions reveal about the relations between the British and Igbo people? What were the contents and contexts of such petitions and what languages of petition writing thrived? How did the colonial officials receive and perceive these petitions? Did these petitions have any impact of colonial policy and administration? How were petitions impacted by colonial ideologies? How should these petitions affect the way scholars understand European colonial rule in Africa. Three significant

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  147

insights underpin this essay. First, this essay posits the thesis that the colonizers were not just passive unresponsive victims of colonial rule, entirely subjugated by the administrators with no say or no role in the colonial administration. Second, by adopting such ideologies as the development and civilizing mission ideologies for the justification for their empires, the imperial government inadvertently empowered the local people to use these same ideologies as justification for their opposition to and negotiations of the colonial encounter. Thus, the ideological weapons for legitimating colonial rule turns out to be the same weapon for legitimating grievances, negotiating discourses and eventually asserting ­self-​­rule. Third, an examination of these petitions provides a ­thought-​­provoking interpretation of British colonial rule and policy in West Africa where it was not entirely successful but proved to be, in the words of Anne Philips, an “­enigma”.6 In fact, colonialism in Igboland, as it can be said of West Africa generally, was a makeshift settlement marked by inconsistencies, especially since there was no logic of capital behind the maneuvers of local indigenes and the colonial officials themselves. This point, which will be elaborated on later in this chapter, confronts the popular view that colonialism duly served the needs of capitalism. It is safe to posit, as Anne Philips does so well, that capitalism failed in British West Africa. If it did not, as widely held, why then were the interests of capitalism ­ill-​­served during the colonial period? On the contrary, it was not always a ­w in-​­win situation for the British administrators in West Africa as they had to grapple with the numerous disruptions of their administration by the indigenous people which affected the capitalist objectives of British imperialism. This contradiction is fully brought to bear when one examines the land and labor policies of the British in southeastern Nigeria and how the local people reacted to these policies in their interactions made available through these petitions. These insights are however products of the peculiar responses of the Igbo people to the challenge of colonial rule. In the end, they help in understanding the renewed reinterpretation of colonial encounters in Nigeria. Against this backdrop, this chapter, which draws upon extensive archival research at the Nigerian National Archives, explores the complexities, interactions, negotiations, challenges and responses that trailed the British encounter with Igboland.7 Significantly, it draws attention to the value of using petitions as primary sources in reconstructing the nature of relations during the colonial period. It also shows that petitions were a viable and legitimately approved means by which these local people reacted or responded to colonial rule and administration.

Same Ideologies, Different Justifications Since the publication of Edward Said’s Orientalism, historians have exposed liberalism’s complicity in empire.8 Many figures in the liberal canon had close ties with colonial enterprises. More importantly, they developed their philosophies through reflection on the relative status of European and n ­ on-​­European peoples and consideration of the problems of empire and global commerce. The

148  Bright Chiazam Alozie

progressive or stadial theory of history, which was central to the liberal outlook, was framed by the experience of empire. Stadial theory described a hierarchical system in which the European state sat at the top with a cascade of lesser political societies below. It was a view of the world that allowed Europeans to justify empire through the projection of their understanding of sovereignty onto societies that they judged to be inferior. Hence, the British Empire was generally justified and legitimated by those notions of European liberalism and Christian humanism.9 Colonial hegemony always had a moral undertone which was to free the people, protect their rights and lead them to salvation and civilization. Colonization itself began with the ideological onslaught of the European missionaries, who, mirroring a paternalistic character in their relationship with the Africans, set out to civilize and Christianize the local communities. Before long, the missionaries were used by the officials as they became an integral part of the British imperial mission in Africa. No doubt then that terms such as “­Dual Mandate”, “­modernity” and “­civilization” came to feature prominently in empire discourses as justification for colonial rule. Two ideologies featured prominently in the British colonial project in N ­ igeria  – ​­the development ideology and the civilizing mission ideology. These ideologies have been explored at length by scholars. Joseph Hodge and other development historians have devoted much scholarly attention to exploring the development ideology while Alice Conklin has produced a brilliant study on the mission to civilize, which was basically a French justification for rule in French colonies but also applied in the British case as the dual mandate.10 The aim here is not to rehash these ideologies or argue how much they lived true to their claims of development and civilization. This chapter stakes a claim on these ideologies based on insights drawn from examining colonial petitions in Nigeria. Unquestionably, imperial ideologies, like rights, development, justice, and the civilizing mission, which were employed to justify colonial rule in the first place, influenced the framing and writing of petitions. Based on these ideologies too and armed with the power to petition, the people could oppose imperial policies and even challenge their positions in the face of a changing system and new administration. Many of the petitions involved issues of land, rights, and the economy. Issues of rights revolved around the protection of communal as against private land ownership, the switch to cash crop production by peasant farmers as against plantation agriculture and the maintenance of what were seen as traditional social relationships as against the disruptive effects of sudden economic change. By petitioning to colonial officials, subjects were able to assert their native rights and liberties which were, after all, the core ideals of European liberalism and ideology used to legitimate colonial hegemony. Hence, imperial propaganda used to justify colonial rule became the basis of expression and/­or dissent by subjects. As far as the British conquest and administration is concerned, it is important to state that there are many historical complexities, complicities and nuances underlying the colonial discourse in Nigeria. Hence, we must understand colonial rule through diverse lenses. Upon colonial rule in Igboland, a relationship

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  149

was established between the colonized and the colonizer. The land changed and underwent different political, economic and sociocultural transformations, especially with the setting up of several administrative structures, colonial policies and judicial institutions. As the Igbo people came to terms with the British administration, they sought ways to make their voices heard as they battled with the social, economic and political challenges they faced in the wake of a new administration and foreign control. Petition writing provided the medium for representing the people’s experiences and understanding of the new force in their lives. Athough petition writing was not a tradition of seeking redress in precolonial Igboland, the people were aware of the avenues for seeking redress as they always referred to the council of elders with their grievances. Hence, there was a traditional medium for airing grievances, and when petition writing became the official method of articulating interests and grievances, the people adopted it with less difficulty. With time, petition writing became a subtle form of colonial resistance. Especially noteworthy were the ordinary people whose voices were reflected most in these petitions. These ordinary people hardly understood the judicial and legal systems; even if they did, they really did not have access to them. Hence, the courts of law were no place for them to seek redress or negotiate positions. They resorted to writing petitions and it is interesting to note that these petitions were not all written to the British colonial official; some were also written to the local chiefs who were under the jurisdiction of the colonial officials themselves. Some petition writers even preferred to write to the local chiefs since they had more trust in them and were closer to them. For others, the chiefs were symbolic of treachery and betrayal and they would have nothing to do with them. For these individuals, whenever they felt uncomfortable articulating their grievances to the colonial District Officer, they either resorted to the local newspaper, town union meetings or in some rare and difficult cases, writing straight to authorities in Britain.11 Petitions ranged from simple pleas in simple language to epistles more sophisticated in style and expression that often embodied the language or concept of human rights and European notions of liberty. This language of rights was derived from the negotiations and interactions between the British and the local people who came to understand over time the real meaning of European rights and liberties which nonetheless were universally applicable to all humankind. The most sophisticated petitions were written by w ­ ell-​­educated professional petition writers, who often used technical and bombastic language and rhetoric meant to impress British officials that they understood their rights and those of their clients as protected people under British law, even though they were not technically British citizens themselves. Most of these petitions are associated with what has been called a “­rhetoric of humility and disavowal”,12 which positioned colonial officials as benefactors indebted to protect the ­well-​­being of their subjects. Their pleas strategically employed moral appeal in seeking redress. Most of the petitions were written in the local Igbo language, while others were written in Pidgin English or with the help of professional petition writers who continued

150  Bright Chiazam Alozie

to hone their writing skills and penmanship. Petitions written in the local language usually deployed an interpreter, who also doubled as a professional petition writer. So, in some cases, a petition may have to undergo a translation before it reached the colonial office. For some professional petition writers, the prospect of petition writing was thrilling. It was not only a means to earn a few shillings but also a way to earn some break from colonial labor. According to Nwaokafor, whose father was a professional petition writer, “­sometimes my father would write petitions for people in exchange for manual labor and work in the farm of Nwa DC. Writing these petitions made him also popular”.13 While some profited materially and gained popularity from the art, others used petition writing to vent their anger toward their fellows, especially families with whom they had ­long-​­standing furor. At times, intentions and content were misinterpreted deliberately in order to pass along the wrong information and eventually punish the petitioner. For others, it was a genuine case of writing in earnest the grievances of the people and articulating in the best light the intentions of the petitioner. Still yet, others committed to petition writing so that their mastery of the art could get them close to the colonial officials and they found their ways into the colonial bureaucracy and acted as intermediaries between the people and officials. This last group was to form part of the elite bandwagon that found themselves in newspaper houses and later articulated nationalist ambitions. There are of course imperfections with these petitions, but generally, petitions alongside the response they elicited from colonial officials provide insights into their very nature of the encounter of the Igbo people with colonialism. They also offer some perceptive analyses and interpretations that deepen our understanding of the ambiguities that underpinned European colonial rule in Africa. Despite its omnipresence, the colonial state was fraught with weaknesses and contradictions which ordinary African employees often exploited in pursuit of their own interests.14 And in spite of their subordinate position in the colonial hierarchy, “­A frican colonial employees were not simply lackeys of the colonial state”.15 Benjamin Lawrance, Emily Osborn and Richard Roberts support this position in their literature on colonial Africa.16 By exploring a ­cross-​­section of African personnel employed at the lowest levels of the colonial administration, these authors shine the spotlight on previously marginalized local ­go-­​­­betweens – ​­interpreters, translators, clerks, letter writers and “­bush lawyers”  – ​­whose mediations shaped in varying degrees relations of power that evolved between Europeans and Africans from the early 1800s to the 1960s, the decade of African independence. In the same vein, Tamba M’bayo investigates the lives and careers of Muslim African interpreters employed by the French colonial administration in Saint Louis, Senegal, from the 1850s to the early 1920s with focus on the lower and middle Senegal River valley in northern Senegal, where the French concentrated most of their activities in West Africa during the nineteenth century.17 He writes that “­these Muslim interpreters performed multiple roles as mediators, military and expeditionary guides, emissaries, diplomatic hosts and treaty negotiators. As cultural and political powerbrokers that straddled the colonial divide, they were indispensable for

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  151

French officials in their relations with African rulers and the local population.”18 This is reminiscent of the roles played by the petition writers who became the intellectual, political, and cultural powerbrokers and negotiators in Igboland. They exemplified a paradox: while serving the French administration, they pursued their own interests and defended those of their local communities. In doing so, they strove to maintain some degree of autonomy and had the capacity to shape power relations between the colonizers and the colonized. Undoubtedly, these petitions provide a window through which we see how an assortment of African intermediaries and other ordinary employees of the colonial state start to grapple with the changing dynamics of power relations between Europeans and Africans over time as well as among Africans themselves in different colonial settings in ­sub-​­Saharan Africa. African intermediaries, whose “­w ider roles… in the making of modern Africa”, illuminate not only their paradoxical position as “­m iddle figures” but also the subtleties fuzzy nature of colonial power relations.19 Petitions written by the Nigerian population are indicative of a number of issues that dominated the colonial period. Unsurprisingly glaring in these documents are visible ideas of racial difference and the inscribed privilege of the colonial institution. The language and conceptual ideas they express also reflect the subjugated and subordinate position of the African population. Many were prudent in their use of language and were clearly written to elicit sympathy. Yet others were intent on drawing the attention of British officials to the larger philosophical ideals of democracy, equity, fair ­play – ​­concepts upon which the colonial project was imposed in the first place. Such expressions of a deep understanding of the inconsistencies of colonialism cogently highlight the fact that the African population was aware of these contradictions.

The Dynamics of Petition Writing and Colonial Interaction Colonial petitions inserted their writers as historical actors in this historical encounter. They revealed the everyday life of the ordinary people and were highly popularized means of showing how the people responded to the challenges of colonial authority and control. By 1892, letter writing had become introduced to Igboland as a means of articulating interests and expressing grievances, especially with policies that the people deemed harsh and intolerable. It was through such letters that treaties of protection and friendships were sealed. For instance, Sir MacDonald signed the treaty of protection and peace with the elders of Akwete, the first Igbo village to be colonized. Following this treaty, he wrote a letter to the Akwete chiefs and elders and promised to protect the native liberties and land rights of the people if they (­the elders) allowed them (­the British) to establish a foothold in Akwete.20 He urged them to see the officials as friends rather than foes and to help them as they went further hinterland to colonize other Igbo communities. Several of such letters existed early on during the period of colonial administration and shows that even though it was highly unlikely that the local chiefs and indigenes fully understood the contents of these early letters,

152  Bright Chiazam Alozie

they were considered actors in, and not purely victims of, the colonial enterprise. With time and, of course, the advantage of Western education which most of the petition writers took advantage of, letter writing became a dominant form of colonial expression. Generally, the petitions were about rights, land, customs, tradition, trade, punishments, crime, injustices and suchlike issues. The periods of the First and Second World Wars marked a drastic shift in the content of these petitions, as they were structured to reflect the disapproval and discontent of the people toward British wartime restructuring of the local economy. One of the e­ ver-​ c­ onstant sources of debate between officials and the people was the issue of land which was perpetually tied to imperial and economic objectives. Land was badly sought after for commercial and residential purposes and was vital to the political economy of the colony. The appropriation of land and rights over land in Igboland made for a fractious relationship between the people and officials. Land and property rights issues represented the most dominant challenge to the Igbo people which they vehemently responded to, especially through petition writing. The focus on tree crops changed land tenure not just in Igboland but in Africa. Most of the petitions focused on disputes with competing claimants and the state as they could no longer obtain land by traditional methods. Not surprisingly though land forms the major source of debacle among the Igbo people even decades after colonial rule had ended in the region. In precolonial times, land was not only held sacred and dear among the Igbo but was usually owned by the community. Thus, it is no surprise that land rights and issues formed basic challenges to subjects and was a constant cause of conflicts between colonial officials and the local communities. Charles K. Meek was right when he noted that “­r ights over land are more jealously treasured than any other form of rights”.21 Thus, petitions relating to land and land rights were the most common. The subject of land was a major concern for the British in West Africa as they constantly fought with local chiefs over rights and ownership of lands in the colony. This again presents an enigma which Anne Philips highlights. Land was never traditionally privatized in Igboland but was communally owned with appointed chiefs charged with allocation and use of land. And for the British, the keys to a capitalist road in economic development were the replacement of both slavery and subsistence agriculture by wage labor and the erosion of communal land tenure in favor of private property in land. This proved herculean in Igboland, coupled with the fact that the dependence of colonial officials on the traditional authority of chiefs discouraged the British from pursuing policies which threatened the power of chiefs over the allocation of communally held land. This is why Philips sees the political weakness of colonialism as the main reason for retreat from capitalist road to West African policy.22 However, this tussle was almost the exclusive preserve of men and local chiefs, as women were basically left out of land rights and discourses. It was not until the late 1940s and early 1950s that women assumed assertive rights to land ownership and discourses.23 This underscores the patriarchal bias of land discourses and petitions in colonial Igboland. But this is not

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  153

entirely surprising because traditionally, land in Igboland was m ­ ale-​­dominated. Beyond that, in England, land discourses were dominated by men who were part of the ruling class that influenced decisions affecting empires. In line with the civilizing mission ideology and the ideals of liberalism and liberty, which formed the pinnacle of the development ideology, colonial land policy witnessed a radical shift from ­communal-​­based ownership to individual ownership and the idea of private property. This shift defined interaction and negotiations between the chiefs and the officials. A number of reasons accounted for this shift. Social change took place in colonial West Africa, with the gradual elimination of slavery and the creation of new classes of capitalist farmers and wage laborers as a result of the very success of peasant production. Class formation in peasant society and the growth of private property in land undermined the social order supported by colonial officials, and sadly this contributed in the 1940s and 1950s to the ending of colonial rule.24 Per the civilizing mission ideology, land tenure systems were practically abolished in favor of individualism as colonial authorities sought to justify more European and egalitarian model of ownership of and rights to land, which ironically was not. Naturally, English common law principles should apply on land ownership and conveyance to Southern Nigeria as with all other British colonies but then, it was difficult in practice in the West African colonies even as there were back and forth debates within official circles on land policy and economic liberalization. For the authorities, this shift favored commercialization and economic liberalization policies which were at the heart of the empire’s material prosperity. By 1910, it became clear that the idea of individualism was not the best policy in terms of land acquisition and control, given the traditional method of communal land ownership that had existed in Igboland. The colonial government therefore switched from encouraging individual land ownership to promoting state Crown land. This made ownership of land based on a supposed “­customary” communal land tenure system that ensured that subjects could own land if they paid allegiance to the local authorities who in turn owed allegiance to the empire and were used as the machinery of indirect rule.25 Thus, it was in the interest of the empire to maintain the authority of the chiefs as land allocators and switch back to some sort of communal land ownership in order to capture the wider allegiance of the local people. However, the appropriation and endorsement of land introduced in the colony was largely at variance with what was originally practiced and caused a lot of issues as many local people opposed the law. In opposition, the local people often employed the principles or ideas behind the individualization of land to argue effectively against the official changing of the methods of land allocation and use. Of course, there were different forms of reactions by the local peoples, but petitioning took the most expressive form as it was legally recognized and did not get the people entangled with the violence associated with physical protests. However, petitions on land issues were generally written by subjects who had only basic knowledge of English law and the legal language as they had not been professionally schooled in English Common Law.

154  Bright Chiazam Alozie

Even some professional petition writers did not fully understand the technicalities of the law as they were more interested in polishing their sentences and on handwriting than on other technicalities associated with petition writing. Notwithstanding, the contents and language of these petitions were emblematic of the rhetoric of land, freedom and liberty. For instance, in 1939, Cyprian Ugwu petitioned the Commissioner for Colony, wherein he protested the unlawful acquisition of his family lands by the local Native Authority, arguing that although his deceased father freely gave the Native Authority the land for temporary use, “­the right of ownership of the disputed land was still reserved by the giver”. The petitioner appealed to the Commissioner to protect his family’s “­legal right of ownership of [their] ancestral lands”.26 Similarly, another petitioner bemoaned the inability and deliberate delay of the Colonial Office to appoint members of his family (­both immediate and extended) as workers in the colonial office situated in the town of Onitsha. Before they sold the land, the authorities had promised to employ one taxable adult in each of the households that owned the land while one of the children of each household would be sent to the mission school in Onitsha. Obviously, colonial authorities did not live up to their promise after acquiring the land. In his petition, the colonial government had shown an obvious disinterest in his welfare and that of his family and merely was interested in the appropriation of their land.27 Another petition from Udiagwu of Ihiala protested the refusal of his family by the officials from farming in a communal land leased to the Native Authority before the lease went into effect. According to Udiagwu, such refusal amounted to an outright denial of the traditional rights of the people and he petitioned the Acting Resident Commissioner to ensure that their rights as “­both subjects of the Crown and citizens of their land be protected”.28 The point to note in these cases is that petition writing was a means to assert rights by petitioners who in their petitions emphasized communal or family rather than individual rights. This no doubt was also a strategy to elicit more favorable response from the authorities. A notable insight gained from these petitions relate to the responses of women in the colonial setting. Often, it has been stated by scholars that due to the nature of the colonial society, women were usually passive recipients of colonial policies and their rightlessness and powerlessness to act in a “­m alecentric” colonial state was unavoidable. This powerless picture of women in the colonial enterprise needs to be revisited. These petitions reveal that although they were few, women did engage in negotiations and contestations with local chiefs and British authorities over their rights to land and property. Beyond the encounters and correspondences between the people and colonial authorities were the delicate and contentious issue of the propitiatory rights of land ownership and inheritance of women. Since the Igbo society was predominantly patriarchal, land and property ownership were mostly the preserve of men, and as colonial rule was enforced in Igboland, patriarchy was especially strengthened. There were only a handful of women who held positions of authority in southeastern Nigeria during this time. Notable among them was Ahebi Ugbabe, who became king in colonial Nigeria.

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  155

Ugbabe was exiled from Igboland, became a commercial sex worker, traveled widely and learned to speak many languages. She became a close companion of Nigerian Igala kings and British officers who supported her claim to the office of headman, warrant chief and later, king. Nwando Achebe’s study highlighted the role of Ahebi Ugbabe in colonial Nigeria, and while providing critical perspectives on women, gender, sex, and sexuality and the colonial encounter, her study demonstrates how it was possible for this woman to take on the office and responsibilities of a traditionally male role.29 However, there were traditional rules of succession which permitted a wife or daughter to inherit land and property from her late husband or father.30 At first, these customs were generally recognized and upheld by the colonial authorities. Overtime, they were no longer deemed practical for the colonies. In fact, in 1947, a colonial judge ruled that a woman was not entitled to her late husband’s estate because, according to customary law, devolution of property followed blood rather than marriage lines.31 He even stated that a woman “­herself is an object of inheritance”.32 Such viewpoints underscore the peculiar plight of women in the colonial dispensation. Colonial land policy did not favor their acquisition of land and property, and even when women made claims to land, they were largely ignored. It is not surprising because the colonial state, despite the generally established gender bias, sought to reinforce the “­t raditional” authority of chiefs and the male elders who had fallen in line with the administration’s imperial objectives. However, the women were not entirely silent, neither were they just passive onlookers all the time. On the contrary, they took advantage of the changing colonial policies and transformations of indigenous land tenure systems by the colonial state. By means of petitions, they challenged the policy of land rights and negotiated their space in a m ­ ale-​­dominated colonial environment. A noteworthy case was that of Maria Olomu of the Benin Province. In 1940, she petitioned the Resident of Benin Province to help restore her ownership of a piece of land that she alleged the Chiefs of Umuezi had taken from her and unlawfully transferred to a European firm, The United Africa Company. From her petition, she justified her claim and rights as a British subject and not based on gender or social status. According to her: I feel, as one of the British protected individuals of the British Empire, that I have the right of freedom and in these days, I am sure that the gospel of “­m ight is right” is no more preached, but equality of rights and fair play … I appeal for your intervention in the interest of fair play which had been ideally represented by the British Government; which your Honour duly represents as a virtuous woman with bandaged eyes holding impartial scales.33 This petition was, no doubt, strongly assertive and represents one of the attempts by women to break the traditional and colonial barriers and assert their political, economic, and social rights. Of course, it is significant to note that Maria Olomu

156  Bright Chiazam Alozie

wrote this petition herself, and from the tone of the petition, it is possible that she must have acquired missionary education. Women like her, from the 1940s, engaged in writing petitions relating to land and social rights, domestic and matrimonial issues. The rhetoric and language of the petition above shows a claim based on the principles of equality, liberty and fair play, which were all the ideals of progress and humanism preached earlier by the Europeans and used particularly to justify the establishment of empires in Africa. As expected, the Resident refused to honor her petition and restore her claim to the land, evidently to avoid a land tussle going in favor of a woman and against a European firm or group of chiefs loyal to the administration. This fact underscores the fact that sometimes the issue of political and social control outweighed exploitation of economic resources. In truth, economically it would be costlier to manage a tussle or conflict with the local elders as it also had potential of turning violent. More so, the elders were used by the colonial officials as tools for maintaining social order and control; hence, it was pointless fighting with them. Another insight from these petitions relate to the language of the petition itself and in this case, the language of development. While it has been established earlier that petition writers often employed the language of rights, protection and liberties which were characteristic of the civilizing mission ideology, the language of development seems to have been fairly well known and used by the local petitioners in their writings. Of course, development was the core ideology behind British penetration and administration of Igboland. It was believed that empires outside Europe would mirror the advanced metropolitan states, even though that did not happen. Broad and pervasive imperial imaginaries were to provide impetus for the justification of imperial territories by Europe in Africa and Asia. Victorian Britain and her European neighbors looked to novel communications technologies as facilitating, even necessitating, the construction of imperial institutions. The developments of these technologies would alter the way in which individuals perceived the physical world and the political possibilities it contained, as political forms previously regarded as unfeasible came to be achievable. This would lead to the emergence of ideas about a g­ lobe-​­spanning polity out of Europe to the south Pacific, North America, Asia and Africa. With this, elements of the imperial imaginary would reinforce their actions through the specter of the civilizing mission and science, and make justifications for conquest based on ­liberal-​­civilizational and ­commercial-​­exploitative, scientific and republican and developmental ideals. These ideologies have been embodied in the works of Alice Conklin, Michael Adas, Jacob Norris, Joseph Hodge and Gerald Hodl.34 The mission civilastrice, science and technology and development have been seen by several authors as dominant ideologies for the justification of empires and governance of such empires. It is important to note that ideologies are substantially rich phenomena and so it is common to talk about ideologies in terms of core values, concepts, values or even political ambitions. They are built from this vast array of other sorts of ideas or i­dea-​­clusters: identities, myths, memories, stereotypes, epistemic rules, beliefs about matters of life, expectations,

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  157

images, lived experiences and so forth.35 To this end, I can argue, albeit cautiously, that the development ideology has been the foremost of all ideologies of empire in British West Africa. Undoubtedly, there were a few development initiatives set in place by the authorities. Some of these initiatives also never materialized while others were abandoned. But it suffices to state here that, mostly, development in terms of infrastructure was built and established to facilitate economic profit and exploitation. A closer look at the practice on the ground indicates that colonial authorities largely ignored the welfare and development of several communities. They basically cared about the interest of the empire and making material returns for the Crown. Since development was the popular rhetoric used to justify colonial rule in Igboland, it was not surprising then that when the people understood the implication of such rhetoric, they were alert to the fact that they were not receiving such promises of development. With time, they increasingly felt the need for the development of their communities by the Europeans and understood that it was part of their rights to negotiate for infrastructure and amenities in their communities. After all, the Europeans had exploited their lands, changed the traditional land use methods established firms and companies, and shipped away their natural resources. The very nature of life for the European in Igboland also became the yardstick for measuring development in the region. Of course, British officials allocated the Government Residential Areas for themselves and had special mission hospitals where they treated their ailments. The local people spared no time in using petitions to negotiate for meaningful development. In a petition by the elders of Ntigha to the District Officer and Resident Commissioner of Aba written on June 6, 1923, the case for the development of the Ntigha community was strongly made. This community was one of the important communities that produced palm oil for the empire and contributed manpower to the service of the authorities. Yet, according to the elders, despite having selected “­capable youths for the construction of the ­Aba-­​­­Ntigha-​­N bawsi road”,36 as instructed by the District Officer, the road had been abandoned for several months by the authorities. Their petition among other things included the confirmation and appointment of two elders selected to represent the village as local administrators for the colony, addressing the welfare and infrastructural development of the community. The elders made it clear that “­the construction of this road is physical evidence of the administration’s interest in its loyal subjects”.37 It is also worthy to note that the Ntigha elders did not just petition for the welfare of their village, they petitioned for the welfare of the entire Ngwa region, which was really an important stronghold administratively and economically for the authorities. In the third point of their petition, they petitioned that: general development measures should be initiated in Aba Ngwa as a whole as we do not see any signs of development or progress at all in Aba Ngwa. We do not have any hospital and our children are treated like dogs. If your worship can please look into the matter of developing our communities and

158  Bright Chiazam Alozie

giving us our share of the proceeds of the administration, that would be of great benefit to the community and serve to further ensure the loyalty of the people.38 This petition reveals a few important insights. The people were actively involved in the colonial negotiations of the period. Whether they were successful or not, they contributed to colonial ­policy-​­making. They also had a say in the development agenda and often served to remind colonial authorities of their claim to civilize and develop the region. Also, the idea of development was not just contested and negotiated but also well known by the petitioners. At least, it meant that the social welfare of the people must be taken care of with the colonial state instituting mechanisms to care for the needs of the local people. As a matter of fact, the third point of that petition shows that petitioners used the term “­development” twice, and in the entire petition, terms like “­developing”, “­infrastructure”, “­welfare”, “­initiated” and “­construction” were used widely. This is suggestive of the fact that, by this time, Igbo subjects were well acquainted with the meaning of development and its impact on them. They also felt the need for development and used legitimate, and sometimes illegitimate, means to canvass for such development. Similarly, the initiation and successful execution of development was a sure marker for the continued loyalty of the people. Hence, to maintain colonial order and control, the people needed to see dividends of their efforts and contributions toward the material prosperity of the Crown. That was some sort of negotiation in which the colonial authorities would have to at least pay heed to. The petition referred to above was copied to the Resident Commissioner, and by the end of the year, serious construction had begun along the ­Aba-­​­­Ntigha-​­N bawsi road.39 So it is safe to state that these petitions demonstrate how involved the people were in policy making and project execution. While the ideals of development were used to justify colonial rule, these same ideals were used to challenge lack of such development, negotiate loyalty and order and contest for the welfare of the subjects as well as overall development of the colonies. The war periods also affected the nature and character of petitions and their writers. As expected, the First and Second World Wars severely affected Britain and her colonies. Nigeria, Igboland in particular, was not spared of the harsh realities of the war. During this period, colonial structures and policies were restructured to meet the demands of the war.40 The material and economic conditions of the period were less than ideal, as British wartime policies adversely affected Igbo farmers and traders. Direct taxation was introduced, while the colonial government pressured its subjects to produce more food and export produce such as palm oil and rubber to support British war efforts. The rural economy was restructured as there were campaigns throughout the country for Nigerians to make sacrifices on behalf of the Crown. As the war intensified, there were also increased demands to produce food crops like gari,41 rice, potatoes and vegetables to meet the demands of the European residents and the army. Also,

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  159

the demand for the supply of palm oil and kernel increased drastically as these products were needed desperately during the war, especially for the manufacture of margarine and cooking oil, for British citizens. According to Abangwu: the war period was a devastating period which raped the Igbo economy and plunged it into severe poverty. I remember when I was ordered to stop my motor business in 1940 and go back to the farm with my family where we were expected to produce by the end of the farming season ­t wenty-​­five bags of gari. During this period, large families were most hit as they were targeted mostly for ­large-​­scale farming while the youths were urged to enlist in the army.42 Such was the bleak situation in Igboland during the war period as there was little or no consideration toward developing the colony during this time. On the contrary, increased export and food crop production, strict regulations and economic restrictions, restriction of foodstuffs, and restrictions on the use of private cars, lorries and petrol for purpose other than the war effort were imposed on the people. The severe conditions faced by the people are revealed in their petitions, as they widely employed petition writing during the war as overt forms of public expressions, dissent and protests. More so, these correspondences reveal how much the local people contributed to the war efforts on the Allied side. Furthermore, they reveal the hardship and endurance of the people. As Korieh rightly noted, most of these petitions reveal the “­problems, thoughts and emotions of ordinary people towards the restrictions imposed upon them by the British colonial authorities particularly during the Second World War”.43 However, beyond these tales of hardships, the petitions make a striking revelation. While it is true that the war affected the use of land and production of crops, it is noteworthy that the outbreak of the war, especially the Second World War, affected discourses about land rights and development. During this period and the years after the war, petitioners sought government intervention in land matters and development issues based on the Allied propaganda which portrayed the war as a fight for freedom from the tyranny of Hitler and Nazism. For instance, in 1941, the Farmers Protection Society in a petition to the Governor strongly protested against the government’s price control policies and proposals to acquire farmlands of some of their members. The Society invoked both the native treaty rights and the ongoing war with Germany to make its case. While praying for the success of British arms against “­H itler, enemy of liberty, civilization and democracy, to whom a treaty is merely a scrap of paper”, the petitioners implored the Governor to protect their own treaty rights to their “­ancestral lands”.44 In another case, S. I. Wokeh petitioned the Aba District Officer in 1916 for the release of his cousin, Mr. Steven Onuoha, who was imprisoned on the charge of rebellion to constituted authority by refusing to give his land for use by the Native Authority. In return, Wokeh pledged that his cousin would offer up the disputed land in support of the war and volunteer to serve in the army.45 Well,

160  Bright Chiazam Alozie

Mr. Onuoha was released eventually and his land appropriated by the authorities. However, he refused to enlist in the army and rather preferred to cultivate export and food crops for the government. His case represents a clear form of negotiation between the local people and the administration. Another noteworthy instance is that of Mr. Samuel Nwokedi, who wrote some of the most impressive petitions of the period. A professional petition writer, he made his living writing petitions for others in the Aba district and beyond. His remarkable art of petition writing earned him a seat among the European officials. In August 1942, in one of the bravest acts of petitioning, he personally petitioned the Governor General Sir Bernard Bourdillon and protested the lack of infrastructural attention and welfare in the colony. That petition had such a powerful impact on the administration that it influenced colonial policy for the time toward subjects and became a key piece in liberation discourses that were to emerge years later. It was also one of the few petitions that got the attention and response of the Governor himself. In his petition, he stated thus: our people sweat and slaughter their souls for the Britannic Majesty’s war. They have believed in the just war of freedom against the Nazi but they have been tied to poverty and sickness. Our children no longer go to schools because they are in the farm. Our boys are forced into the army while our maidens are raped at will while we sweat and rot for Her Majesty. We are hungry and have no pipe water. We do not go to the hospital because we are not allowed to. What is freedom if not civilization? Do we fight Hitler only to be imprisoned in our own homes? Save our souls … we can no longer keep quiet; the cloud is gathering.46 No doubt, the tone of that petition reflects genuine concern for the welfare of the people and shows the utter neglect of the needs and development of the colony by the authorities during the war period. It was also an indicator that if nothing happened to improve the situation of the people, the colony may not know peace. In immediate response, the Governor instructed the Resident Commissioner to consider the matter and resolve it to avoid further complaints and prevent the situation from getting out of hand. The question “­what is freedom if not civilization?” underscores the importance of rights, liberties and development in the colonial discourses as reflected in many of the petitions. The months to follow witnessed some improvement in the welfare of the people of Aba in particular and Southern Nigeria in general. So, it is sufficient to state that the people took advantage of the war period to further assert their rights, and in some cases, they succeeded since the government was too distracted with the overseas war and could not afford to handle any domestic violence that would arise in the colonies and thus jeopardize the economic production targeted toward wartime efforts. No doubt, these petitions highlight the significance of development and how such discourses and correspondences were interwoven with issues of rights, civilization and liberties. Hence, the civilizing mission and development ideologies were the same

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  161

ideologies used to respond to the challenges of colonial rule in southern Nigeria. The petitions have offered insights into the nature of colonial interactions and show the people as active participants in the process of colonial administration.

Conclusion This chapter examined some insights and revelations gleaned from a preliminary study of petitions relating to colonial rule in Southern Nigeria. Colonial petitions offer an opportunity to reexamine some of the established notions of interaction and contact between the British and local people in colonial Nigeria. They are interpretative of the number of issues that dominated the colonial period and portray colonized people as agents and actors in the colonial process. Through these petitions, their voices are heard as their everyday life and experiences are also expressed. They show how the people responded to the challenges of a changing society, one governed by foreigners. By studying these petitions, we know the extraordinary steps taken by the colonized peoples to confront colonial rule and the crises at different historical times. Importantly, the content, language, and context of these petitions help us to understand the colonial encounter better and underscore the fusion of rights, liberty, protection, and development discourses into petition writing. These petitions also offer insights into how British officials used language and European epistemology to legitimate colonial rule or empires and control the people. The dominant ideologies of the civilizing mission and development were anchors to justify the penetration and rule of Igboland in southern Nigeria. These ideologies were also used by petitioners in responding to the colonial encounter. Negotiations were a dominant feature of the colonial period and they showed an active involvement of the people in the colonial process. Issues such as land rights, property and ownership, women and claims to land, development and welfare were topical for petitioners, and they show the integration of European ideals in the contestations and negotiations between the local people and officials. Indeed, these petitions are not mere pieces of propaganda as they offer diverse lens to see and understand African lives during the colonial period. They act as active historical agents in their own right rather than hapless colonized subjects who were at the mercy of omnipotent European officials. It also contributes to the changing narrative that subjects were not always passive victims during the period. This chapter calls for the revisiting of the stereotypical biased explanations of African people’s response to conquest and domination seen in popular colonial historiography in terms of just collaboration or resistance; such explanations ought to be reconsidered in the light of the obvious complexities within colonized societies and the hazy power relations that existed between them and colonial authorities. Of course, there should be a methodological recourse to the broader use of petitions as primary historical sources while being cautious of the inherent limitations of sources of this nature and complementing them with other primary sources at the historian’s disposal. In the end, a reinterpretation

162  Bright Chiazam Alozie

of colonial interactions in Africa is indeed a vocation that historians of African colonial history should be committed to; a reinterpretation that sees colonial relations not just in terms of colonized victim versus colonizer ruler, but as a process of dynamic yet complex interactions, contestations and negotiations that involved active involvement and local reactions and responses of Nigerians to imperial policies and administration. From the gaze of the local people, these petitions counter hegemonic discourse that highlights the extent to which the interpretation of Western colonization of Africa remained a contested terrain. No doubt, it is only by centralizing the local agencies in this colonial discourse and studying the indigenous perspective that the greatest strengths of colonial historical analyses will be realized.

Notes 1 “­ Britain’s African Colonies.” Encyclopedia of Western Colonialism since 1450. Encyclopedia.com (­August 25, 2022). https://­w ww.encyclopedia.com/­h istory/­­ encyclopedias-­​­­a lmanacs-­​­­t ranscripts-­​­­a nd-​­m aps/­­britains-­​­­a frican-​­colonies. 2 Adiele E. Afigbo, Ropes of Sand: Studies in Igbo History and Culture (­I badan: University Press Limited, 1981), 288. 3 Ibid, 288. 4 Joseph C. Anene, Southern Nigeria in Transition, 1 ­ 885–​­1906 (­Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1966). Adiele E. Afigbo, The Warrant Chiefs: Indirect Rule in Southeastern Nigeria, ­1891–​­1929 (London: Longman, 1972). Samuel N. Nwagbara, “­I bo Land: A Study in British Penetration and the Problems of Administration ­1860–​­1930,” (­Ph. D diss., Northwestern University, 1965). Victor C. Uchendu, The Igbo of South East Nigeria (­New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965). Walter E. Ofonagoro, “­The Opening up of Southern Nigeria to British Trade and Its Consequences: Economic and Social History ­1881–​­1916,” (­PhD diss., University of Columbia, 1971). Johnson E. Nwauguru, Aba Division under British Rule (­Enugu: Santana Press and Publishing Company, 1973). Stephen O. Okafor, “­Ideal and Reality in British Administrative Policy in Eastern Nigeria,” African Affairs 73(­293), October 1974: ­459–​­71. 5 Onwuka Njoku, Ohafia: A Heroic Igbo Society (­Ohafia: Kalu Onyeoku, 2000), 66. 6 See Anne Philips, The Enigma of Colonialism: British Policy in West Africa (­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989). 7 All petitions were collected at the National Archives, Enugu (­henceforth referred to as NAE), and the National Archives, Ibadan (­henceforth referred to as NAI), both branches of the National Archives of Nigeria. The archives of Eastern Nigeria, covering the seven ­present-​­day states of Abia, Akwa Ibom, Anambra, Cross River, Enugu, Imo and Rivers, are housed at 3 Colliery Avenue in the administrative heart of Enugu. The city of Enugu has been, in turn, the bureaucratic center of the Southern Provinces of Nigeria during colonial times, the capital of the defunct eastern Region of Nigeria, the headquarters of Biafra during the Civil War and today is the capital of the state bearing its name. The archive at Ibadan is at the University of Ibadan. These archives are very rich in official papers of all Federal, Regional and State Governments; papers of native and local authorities; papers of ­semi-​­public bodies and institutions; and papers of private individuals and families as well as those of ecclesiastical bodies and missions during and after the colonial period. 8 Edward W. Said, Orientalism (­New York: Pantheon Books, 1978); Bhikhu Parekh, “­Liberalism and Colonialism: A Critique of Locke and Mill,” in Jan Nederveen Pieterse and Bhikhu Parekh (­eds.), The Decolonization of Imagination: Culture, Knowledge and Power (­L ondon: Zed Books, 1995), ­81–​­98; James Tully, Strange Multiplicity: Constitutionalism in an Age of Diversity (­Cambridge: CUP, 1995); Uday Singh Mehta,

Colonial History and Documentary Sources  163

Liberalism and Empire: A Study in ­Nineteenth-​­Century British Liberal Thought (­Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999); John Locke has been a focal point of these studies, not because he was a liberal but because he became a rallying point for liberals: Barbara Arneil, John Locke and America: The Defence of English Colonialism (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996). 9 For a comprehensive review of the literature on empire and liberalism, see Jennifer Pitts, “­Political Theory of Empire and Imperialism,” Annual Review of Political Science 13(­1), 2010: ­211–​­35. Recent studies point to a more supple liberalism, but one still largely beholden to empire; see, for example, Duncan Bell, The Idea of Greater Britain: Empire and the Future of World Order, ­1860–​­1900 (­Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2007); Karuna Mantena, “­The Crisis of Liberal Imperialism,” in Duncan Bell (­ed.), Victorian Visions of Global Order: Empire and International Relations in Nineteenth Century Political Thought (­Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), ­113–​­35; Jennifer Pitts, A Turn to Empire: The Rise of Imperial Liberalism in Britain and France (­Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005). 10 See Joseph M. Hodge, Triumph of the Expert: Agrarian Doctrines of Development and the Legacies of British Colonialism (­Athens: Ohio University Press, 2007) and Alice Conklin, A Mission to Civilize: The Republican Idea of Empire in France and West Africa, 1 ­ 895–​ ­1930 (­Stanford, CA: Stanford UP, 1997). For other works in this category, see Joseph Hodge, “­Writing the History of Development (­Part 1: The First Wave),” Humanity: An International Journal of Human Rights, Humanitarianism and Development 6(­3), Winter 2015: ­429–​­63; “­Writing the History of Development (­Part 2: Longer, Deeper, Wider),” Humanity: An International Journal of Human Rights, Hummanitarianism and Development 6(­3), Spring 2016: ­125–​­74; Fernando Cardoso, Capitalism and Underdevelopment in Latin America (­1967); Dependency and Development In Latin America (­1979); Andre Frank, Capitalism and Underdevelopment in Latin America: Historical Studies of Chile and Brazil (­New York: Monthly Review Press, 1967); James Ferguson, The ­Anti-​­Politics Machine: “­Development,” Depoliticization, and Bureaucratic Power in Lesotho (­Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990); Suzanne Moon, Technology and Ethical Idealism: A History of Development in the Netherlands East Indies (­Leiden: CNWS Publications, 2007). 11 Douglas Nwamaghinna, 78, Lineage Elder, Interview at his home, Umuehilegbu, Aba, December 21, 2014. 12 See Susan Zaeske, Signatures of Citizenship: Petitioning, Antislavery, and Women’s Political Identity (­Gender and American Culture Series, Chapel Hill, 2003), 7. Cited in Shelly Rosenblum, Review of Susan Zaeske’s “­Signatures of Citizenship: Petitioning, Antislavery, and Women’s Political Identity,” Canadian Review of American Studies 36(­1), 2006: 119. 13 Nwaokafor Sunday, c. 74, Elder, Interview at his home Udi, Enugu State, January 16, 2015. Nwa DC literally means “­child of DC”. DC means District Officer. Typically, the Igbo called any white colonial officer Nwa DC, no matter the officer’s rank. 14 Tamba Mbayo, “­Intermediaries, Interpreters and Clerks,” review of Intermediaries, Interpreters, and Clerks: African Employees in the Making of Colonial Africa by Benjamin Lawrence, ­H-​­Net Reviews, October 2008, https://­w ww.­h-​­net.org/­reviews/­ showrev.php?id=15736. 15 Benjamin Lawrence, Emily Osborn, and Richard Roberts (­eds.), Intermediaries, Interpreters, and Clerks: African Employees in the Making of Colonial Africa (­Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2006), 7. 16 Ibid. 17 Tamba M’bayo. Muslim Interpreters in Colonial Senegal, ­1850–​­1920: Mediations of Knowledge and Power in the Lower and Middle Senegal River Valley (­Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2016). 18 M’bayo. Muslim Interpreters in Colonial Senegal. See: https://­w ww.barnesandnoble.com/­ w/­­muslim-­​­­i nterpreters-­​­­i n-­​­­colonial- ­​­­senegal-­​­­1850-­​­­1920-­​­­t amba-​­mbayo/­1123957224. 19 Benjamin Lawrance, Emily Osborn, and Richard Roberts (­eds.), Intermediaries, Interpreters, and Clerks, vii.

164  Bright Chiazam Alozie

20 National Archives Enugu, ABADIV, 6/­4/­125. To His Excellency: Reports on Correspondences to Akwete and Okrika Chiefs, 04/­07/­1902. 21 Charles K. Meek, Land, Law and Custom in the Colonies (­L ondon: Oxford University Press, 1949). 22 Philips, The Enigma of Colonialism, ­1–​­6. 23 Bonny Ibhawoh, Imperialism and Human Rights: Colonial Discourses of Rights and Liberties in African History (­New York: State University of New York Press, 2007), 90. 24 Anne Philips, The Enigma of Colonialism, ­23–​­25. 25 Ibid., 96. 26 Petition by the Descendants of the Oloto Chieftaincy of Ebute Metta to the Governor, Com. Col. 1/­197/­Vol. III, NAI 7/­15/­1941. 27 Petition from H. U Eze on behalf of the Eze Family to the Resident Commissioner, Onitsha Province, 8/­1/­158, NAE Onprov, 09/­14/­1935. Onitsha was one of the important administrative centers in Southern Nigeria. The Niger River flows at Onitsha and connects the region to the Western parts of Nigeria. 28 Petition from Udiagwu of Ihiala: Rights over Farming at Orlu, OP, 8/­174, Onprov, 09/­11/­1935. 29 Nwando Achebe, The Female King of Colonial Nigeria: Ahebi Ugbabe (­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2011). 30 Godwin I. Azugo, “­Women and ­Children—​­A Disempowered Group Under Customary Law,” in Yemi Osibanjo and Awa Kalu (­eds.), Towards a Restatement of Nigerian Customary Law (­Lagos: Federal Ministry of Justice, 1991), 132. 31 Ibhawoh, Imperialism and Human Rights, 110. 32 Justice Beckley, Sogeimo Davis vs Adolphus Davis, 1947. NLR, 9, 80. 33 Maria Olumo (­F ): Petitions and Complaints: General, 9/­7/­1940, NAE Abadist 14/­1/­ 31, File No. 31 Vol. XVII. 34 Conklin, A Mission to Civilize; Michael Adas, Machines as the Measure of Men: Science, Technology and Ideologies of Western Dominance (­Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2nd edition, 2014); Jacob Norris, Land of Progress: Palestine in the Age of Colonial Development, ­1905–​­1948 (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013); Joseph Hodge, Gerald Hodl and Martina Kopf (­eds.), Developing Africa. 35 See Clifford Geertz, “­Ideology as a Cultural System,” in David Apter (­ed.), Ideology and Discontent (­L ondon: Free Press of Glencoe, 1964), ­47–​­76. 36 Petition to the District Officer, Aba District, by the Elders of Ntigha. 6/­6/­1923, NAE, Abadist. 3/­179. 37 Ibid. 38 Ibid. Italics mine for emphasis. 39 His Majesty’s Stationery Office, Annual Report on the Social and Economic Progress of the People of Nigeria, 1924 (­K ingsway, London: His Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1925). 40 Chima Korieh has done an impressive study on these changes in structure and policies during the war period in colonial Igboland. See Chima Korieh, The Land Has Changed: History, Society and Gender in Colonial Eastern Nigeria (­Calgary: University of Calgary Press, 2010). 41 Gari (­g arri) is a local staple among West Africans made of cassava flour. During the war, it was one of the basic staple foods that the British depended on. 42 Abangwu Nwankpa, 72, Village Chief, Interview at his residence, Umuode, Aba, Abia State, January 12 2015. 43 Chima Korieh, The Way We Lived: Essays on Nigerian History, Gender and Society (­Glassboro, NJ: Goldline and Jacobs Publishing, 2013), 56. 44 Petition by the Farmers Protection Society to the Governor, NAI, Com. Col. 1/­197/­Vol. III, 2/­11/­1941. 45 Petition to Release Mr. Steven Onuoha, 11/­1/­672, NAE Abadist, 07/­10/­1918. 46 Save Our Souls: Petition to the G ­ overnor-​­General, Sir. Bernard Borudilon by Mr. Samuel Nwokedi, 7/­9/­824, NAE Abadist, 8/­14/­1942.

10 ABINA AND THE IMPORTANT MEN Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

Introduction In the last ­half-­​­­a-​­century, the graphic genre has become very popular in mainstream book publishing, most particularly in the West. In the United States, for example, publishers have produced a large body of nontraditional narrative in form of graphic novel, cartoon sketch, and comic strip. In the past, mainstream publishers used graphic expression to serve largely juvenile and young adult audiences, though graphic vehicles for more mature audiences also existed.1 There are many publishing presses devoted to serving this category of readers. For instance, Capstone, a ­M innesota-​­based publishing house and one of the leading educational presses, specializes in fiction and nonfiction graphic novel. Its social studies and history titles are tailored to the needs of young readers of ­g rade-​­level interest and appropriate vocabulary standards.2 The graphic genre, however, has not only developed to become a significant sector of the book publishing industry, it has increasingly been turned to by educators, especially in liberal education. For example, history instructors have utilized this hitherto unconventional reading material to supplement traditional historical literature.3 Graphic narratives now abound for the history instructor interested in using them as pedagogical instrument in the classroom. In American history, practically every occurrence of historical significance from p­ re-​ C ­ olumbian to modern era has been featured in one graphic medium or the other. One example of a publishing company that has featured in graphic novel the whole spectrum of American history is Saddleback Educational Publishing in its American History Series. The titles in this series include The Fight for Freedom: ­1750–​­1783; The U.S. Emerges: 1 ­ 783–​­1800; Americans Move Westward, The Civil War: ­1850–​­1876; The Industrial Era: ­1865–​­1915; America Becomes a World Power: ­1890–​­1930; The Roaring Twenties and the Great Depression: 1 ­ 920–​­1940; World War II DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-13

166  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

and the Cold War: 1 ­ 940–​­1960; The Civil Rights Movement and Vietnam: ­1960–​­1976; and Globalization: ­1977–​­2008.4 These are standard themes in American history textbooks. Graphic histories of African Americans also abound in the American historical literature. The black experience, from enslavement through Jim Crow Segregation, the Civil Rights Revolution to Barak Obama as president, has been chronicled in the graphic category. Worthy of mention is Still I Rise: A Cartoon History of African Americans, an account of African American history in cartoon format ­co-​­authored by Roland Owen Laird Jr. and Taneshia Nash Laird and published in 1997 by W.W. Norton and Company. The publication has been identified as the first graphic work on African American history. In 2009, Sterling Publishing published an updated edition of this book as Still I Rise: A Graphic History of African Americans, a work that has received critical acclaim. While graphic history has richly supported American historiography, it has not been a popular feature of African historical writing. True, since the emergence of academic history in Africa in the late 1950s, African historiography has made tremendous progress, not only thematically, but also in its methodology of inquiry. But African historiography has been rather slow to deploy the graphic genre; thus, very few graphic works on themes of direct relevance to African history exist. This chapter takes the graphic history book Abina and the Important Men: A Graphic History as case study to examine graphic history within historiographical and pedagogical frameworks. Authored by the historian Trevor R. Getz and illustrated by Liz Clarke, the significance of this book is that it is the most successful so far of the extant graphic works on African history. The book, winner of the American Historical Association’s James Harvey Robinson Prize, is an important resource in African history classrooms as well as in a wide variety of courses in other academic areas such as African American, World, and Black Atlantic histories and Women and Gender Studies. The discourse in this chapter is based on the authors’ experiences in their use of the book as a pedagogic tool in a t­ hree-​­hour credit f­ reshman-​­level course called “­Global Culture in History,” a General Education Humanities course at Tennessee State University, an urban, comprehensive institution in Nashville. The course is designed to introduce students to the historian’s craft and different types of historical analysis. It utilizes course materials that examine multiple cultures in a comparative fashion in order to help students explore global/­cultural diversity.5 Thus, it employs sources that introduce students to different styles of historical expression such as books, films, graphic histories, historical fiction, and plays. Abina and the Important Men was used as one of the texts for the course.

Conceptualizing Graphic Novel as History The graphic expression is represented in forms such as graphic novel, cartoon, and comic strip. All these forms bear relationship with each other, in the sense that they are a product of a format that utilizes artistic illustration, often colorful,

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  167

combined with text to tell a story that is not delivered through prose but sequentially in frames across pages. Of more significance to academic study is the graphic novel in its ­non-​ ­fictional format which addresses subjects of historical worth. The term “­g raphic novel” is believed to have been used first by the comic enthusiast Richard Kyle in an article published in 1964.6 However, the popular use of the term followed the publication of A Contract with God (­1978) by graphic novelist Will Eisner. By the late 1980s, “­g raphic novel” had become immensely popular in the book publishing industry. Although in the literary sense, the term “­novel” depicts a work of fiction, the graphic novel has moved beyond this restive narrative. While fiction continues to be predominant, graphic novel in its ­modern-​­day usage is no longer restricted to fictional themes and characters. Unlike its traditional form which specializes in fantastic adventurous tales of superheroes like Batman, modern graphic novels feature ­full-​­length, n ­ on-​­fictional, historically themed works and biographies.7 Also, as a presentation of history through graphics, n ­ on-​­fictional graphic novel is based on historical documentation and attempt at accuracy and objectivity. In this sense, graphic novel constitutes the genre generally referred to as “­g raphic history.” It is a form of historical writing which utilizes the graphic technique. A graphic novel Abina and the Important Men demonstrates graphic history. It explores the historical themes of enslavement and abolitionism, rights and justice, gender and society, and colonial and ethnic (­A kan) history. It is informed by historical details at a scholarly level, which appeals to a matured audience of high school and college students. It is also grounded on a scholarly research methodology that utilizes archival material to deconstruct an important historical theme in the African past.

Graphic History and African Historiography Perhaps, the earliest depiction of anything related to Africa in the graphic genre was the Tarzan story, expressed variously in comic strip, novel, and film media, and very popular in the West from about the 1930s to the 1960s. The series, seen by some critics as racially demeaning to Africans, was set in Africa and featured a fictional character, Tarzan, raised by forest apes. But there has been a plethora of cartoons and comic strips, many published in Africa in magazines and newspapers featuring various subjects, including African superheroes. But this has not been the case with graphic history featuring aspects of African history. Before the publication of the first edition of Abina and the Important Men in 2011, there had not been a lot of graphic history on the African past. One of the earliest major works was the first of a ­t wo-​­volume graphic books on the struggle for democracy in Nigeria in the early 1990s, published by Farafina Limited, an imprint published by Kachifo, a Nigerian publishing house. The first graphic work on this subject is Abraham Oshoko, June 12: The Struggle for Power in Nigeria (­2006). The 1990s were a trying period in Nigeria’s political

168  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

history, and the failure of its democratic attempt had such a profound impact on the nation that it rightly generated a lot of literature, both academic and layman. Oshoko’s first volume examines the tortuous democratization process in Nigeria, following a ­decade-​­long military dictatorship. A sequel to this work appeared as June 12, 1993: Annulment (­2013). In this second graphic narrative, Oshoko focuses on the intrigue that attended the abrupt annulment of the Nigerian presidential election of June 12, 1993, an event that has become of historical significance in modern Nigerian history. It is noteworthy that these notable works are a product of African publishing, Kachifo, based in Lagos and founded in 2004 on the desire “­to create a platform for African writers to present their own ideas to the rest of the world.”8 Kachifo has published many successful A ­ frica-​­centered children’s graphic books. But it has also seen the need to publish more serious works for matured audiences. The publication of its June 12 books represented an important development in African historiography in the area of graphic history. As historical work, the volumes demonstrate archival research and the use of historical sources to produce impressively designed graphic books. The depiction of African history in graphic format seems, however, to be overwhelmingly a preserve of publishing companies outside the continent. Story Press Africa, a South African publishing outfit which has published graphic works on Africa, has as its aim the placing of “­A frican knowledge in its rightful place among the knowledge of the world,” and thus publishes “­stories by Africans about Africa for a global audience…”9 However; the publishing company is an imprint of Catalyst Book Press based in California. Its publications, under its African Graphic Novel Series, include Luke W. Molver and Mason O’Connor’s Shaka Rising: A Legend of the Warrior Prince (­2017) and Luke Molver’s King Shaka: Zulu Legend (­2019), both graphic novels about the great Zulu historical figure, Shaka. Historical figures, from legendary heroes to contemporary leaders, are a popular subject of the African graphic novel. Apart from Shaka, another figure that has made its rounds in this gene is Sundiata Keita, the enterprising Mandinka king of the medieval Kingdom of Mali. Sundiata was a popular heroic figure in the local legend, a crippled young boy who overcame his adversity, defeated an oppressive neighboring ruler, and became the founder of the famous Western Sudanese kingdom. Versions of this legend have appeared in graphic scripts, including Justine and Ron Fontes’ Sunjata: Warrior King of Mali: A West African Legend (­2008); Will Eisner’s Sundiata: A Legend of Africa (­2002); David Wisniewski’s Sundiata: Lion King of Mali (­1999); and Roland Bertol and Gregorio Prestopino’s Sundiata: The Epic of the Lion King (­1970). The representation of heroic figures in graphic novels is not limited to the male. Aleksandar Panev in Queen Nzinga (­2014) tells the story of one of the most famous women political and military leaders in precolonial Africa, Queen Nzinga, of the Southwest African Kingdom of Ndongo, who fought against Portuguese slave trading in her kingdom. In modern Africa, predictably, Nelson Mandela, the former South African president

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  169

and arguably the most beloved contemporary African leader, is a subject of quite a number of graphic historical novels. An example is Nelson Mandela: The Authorized Comic Book (­2009), which chronicles the president from his days as an antiapartheid activist through his t­ wenty-­​­­seven-​­year imprisonment to his ascendancy of the South African presidency in 1994. Intractable conflict, incessant in Africa, is another popular subject of graphic expression in African historiography. There are a few graphic novels aimed at the junior audience, although historical contextually. Perhaps, the most insidious part of African conflict is the use of children in wars as combatants and sex slaves. This is represented in the graphic novel, Michel Chikwanine, Jessica Dee Humphreys, and Claudia Dávila, Child Soldier: When Boys and Girls Are Used in War (­2015), situated in the devastating conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo (­DRC) from 1993 to 2003. Telling the story of another brutal conflict in graphic format is Sharon McKay and Daniel Lafrance’s War Brothers: The Graphic Novel (­2013), a work on the Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army (­LRA) insurgency in Northern Uganda from the late 1980s to 2006. But more historically grounded and directed at a matured audience is David Axe and Tim Hamilton’s Army of God: Joseph Kony’s War in Central Africa (­2013), a graphic exposition of the LRA war focusing on Kony, the notorious warlord who led a violent movement to wrought carnage in Central Africa.10 Another nuanced graphic work on the LRA war is Joshua Dysart and Alberto Ponticelli’s Unknown Soldier Vol. 2: Easy Kill (­2008). This is an a­ ward-​­winning graphic novel on the conflict, unapologetic in its frank narration of the brutality of the war. Published in the Vertigo Comics’ Unknown Soldier series, the novel is based on fi ­ rst-​­hand accounts and interviews with diverse groups in Uganda who experienced the war one way or the other. The long, equally devastating Sudanese civil war from 1983 to 2005 has also been a subject of graphic novel expression. Sudan had always been a hot spot, but the highlight of its conflict was the massive displacement of young people, especially boys, by the conflict. The study of the s­ o-​­called “­lost boys” is paramount in the literature of the war. A graphic novel on this aspect of the war is James Disco and Susan Clark’s Echoes of the Lost Boys of Sudan (­2011), a depiction of the harrowing travails of four displaced teenage boys during the war. Perhaps, the most devastating African conflict of the twentieth century was the Rwandan genocide of the early 1990s that saw the massacre of about 100,000 Rwandese. Depicting the carnage is ­Jean-​­Philippe Stassen and Alexis Siegel’s (­translator) Deogratias: A Tale of Rwanda (­2006), an ­award-​­winning graphic novel.11 Abina and the Important Men appears to be the most successful title in the African graphic history genre. With its huge success, its publisher, Oxford University Press, went on to publish Rafe Blaufarb (­w ith Liz Clarke as illustrator), Inhuman Traffick: The International Struggle against the Transatlantic Slave Trade, A Graphic History (­2014), a graphic account of one of the most dramatic historical events related to ­A frica—​­the Atlantic trade, with a focus on its emancipation. Largely, it is plausible to argue that graphic history in the context of African history is still at its infancy. Of the extant literature available up to date,

170  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

Abina and the Important Men is undoubtedly the most successful. It is essentially a seminal work, which constitutes a defining moment in the annals of emerging graphic history in African historiography.

The Voice of Abina Mansah in the Classroom Historically, Abina and the Important Men is set in colonial Gold Coast (­modern state of Ghana) in West Africa, where the British maintained a sphere of influence on the coastal territory adjacent to the Bight of Benin for much of the early nineteenth century. In 1867, Britain’s appropriation of territories led to the creation of a “­Crown Colony,” and by 1874, British imperial possession in the region had resulted in the establishment of the Gold Coast Colony. Set in this geographical area, Abina and the Important Men narrates the travails of a marginalized African woman, Abina Mansah, who claimed wrongful enslavement and sought freedom through legal recourse. As a historical novel, the narrative is centered on an 1876 court testimony. With its publication in 2012, teachers of world and African history took notice. In addition to the usual reviews, the H ­ -​­World history discussion board hosted an open online conversation about the book with comments from the author and illustrator. For Oxford University Press, this was the beginning of their Graphic History Series, which now contains six titles, all illustrated by Liz Clarke.12 The careful attention to detail, high production values, and finally, the extensive supplementary materials, including both essays on historical context and primary source documents, make the books in this series attractive choices for the college history classroom. A close examination of the first of these, Abina and the Important Men, reveals the benefits of bundling this material together but the enormous amount of work still needed to provide students with a complete context for Abina’s experiences. The story of Abina and the Important Men draws on an unusually detailed transcription of courtroom testimony in a case of illegal enslavement. The title character, Abina Mansah, testified in a British court in the Gold Coast (­modern Ghana) in 1876 that she had been illegally sold as a slave to Quamina Eddoo, a wealthy African man. Ultimately, the court did not uphold her claims, but in the course of giving testimony, she revealed much about her ­life—​­how she was born into a free family, enslaved as a result of the Asante wars, given a chance (­so she thought) to assimilate into a new family through marriage to her master, made to carry goods from the interior to the coast, betrayed by her master/­husband who sold her yet again, and finally how she ran away and came to give testimony in court.13 Just how unusual was Trevor Getz’s approach to this material? Jonathan Reynolds, a historian of Africa, contrasted the normal academic practice of preparing a conference paper on a key primary source and then expanding it into a short journal article with Getz’s graphic history project: I mean, for crying out loud, who among us can say that we would have read through the pages of that weathered folder in Accra and thought Gosh,

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  171

this would [make] an excellent foundation for a brilliantly conceived and thoughtfully illustrated Graphic History! And heck, why not provide the primary document and also place Abina’s story in wider historical context? And I’ll introduce each section with a different Adinkra symbol, so as to anchor the core concepts of the volume in local cultural context. Then, just for yucks, I’ll get Oxford University Press to publish it in full color and at a price that makes it easy to adopt for use in a variety of classroom settings.14 Reynolds was reacting as a historian of Africa, but Maryanne Rhett, a s­elf-​ ­described “­g raphic novel enthusiast,” who uses the genre in the classroom, also puts Getz and Clarke’s book in the context of a “­prestigious, if limited” number of previous graphic novels focusing on historical topics. Nevertheless, she acknowledged that Getz and Clarke’s treatment of Abina stood apart due to the extensive primary source and contextual material which makes this work more of a textbook than most graphic novels, even though the graphic portion of the work could easily stand alone.15 Other reviewers also highlighted the value of the source material and historical context, often echoing Rhett’s division of the book into the accessible graphic section and the more ­textbook-​­like sections that ­follow.16 Those on the H ­ -​­World forum who had already taught the book indicated a good response from students, who not only read and enjoyed the material but were able to engage in thoughtful discussion of it. Some reviewers do, however, question key interpretive elements of the graphic novel. Michael Chaney, for example, objects to the sympathetic presentation of the British magistrate William Melton, concluding that “­the British come away looking far less guilty of anything than the wicked palm oil slave drivers whom they administrate.”17 In the H ­ -​­World forum, Laura Mitchell wished for fuller development of issues of gender and more discussion on the difference between Akan and British ideas of what it meant to be free.18 Some of these problems have been addressed in the second edition of the book, most notably in the addition of a new section (“­Engaging Abina”) that incorporates essays by Sandra Greene, Kwasi Konadu, and Antoinette Burton as well as a couple of short essays by Getz that give additional insights into selected issues, including gender and ­cross-​­cultural understandings of slavery.19 These additions are welcome, but for a ­non-​­Africanist teaching this in a general education class on History, there is still much background material that needs to be developed. Based on the use of this graphic novel in freshman history class by the authors of this chapter, it is true that there are some minor areas of misunderstanding. The most prevalent and persistent misconceptions are conflation of the ­trans-​­Atlantic slave trade and planation slavery in the Americas with more localized slavery practiced in the Gold Coast, and a tendency to refer to Africans as African Americans. In general, however, student response was almost universally positive. Students found the graphic presentation very readable, while the character of Abina and her plight drew instant sympathy from most readers. Students’ interest in the subject of the graphic novel meant that they were open

172  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

to discussions of British colonial attitudes, the place of the Asante Confederation in African history, West African culture, the place of African products in the global economy, and the legal status of slaves and women in the 1870s. When Adebayo Oyebade gave a guest lecture on African history, students were quickly drawn into the subject and had numerous questions that indicated both a sophisticated interest in historical subjects (­and African history in particular) but also a pronounced deficit in previous exposure to the subject in their prior education. As an introduction to the topic of imperialism and African history, the graphic presentation of Abina’s story was a success. The positive student response to the graphic novel should not come as a surprise. Graphic novels are attractive choices for high school and college courses for several reasons. The reason that most readily springs to mind is their ability to engage a student body that is more attuned to images than the written word. Pam Watts emphasizes the special potential for graphic novels to treat marginal populations and to reach young people using what has historically been an outsider medium.20 Neither of these benefits is trivial, but by themselves, they may not be sufficient for most faculty to add graphic novels (­even if the content is historically relevant) to the curriculum. Other characteristics of graphic histories, however, make them a pedagogically sound choice. As William B ­ oerman-​­Cornell noted in his study of historical graphic novels, a graphic presentation can provide a more coherent reading experience than the usual textbook presentation. Traditional textbooks usually include a variety of “­secondary flow” materials in addition to the “­primary flow” of the text, thus requiring students to continually make judgments about when to interrupt the primary flow in order to focus on illustrations, maps, charts, sidebars, embedded documents, and other elements in the secondary flow. Graphic novels solve the problem by embedding maps and other materials in the graphic storyline itself.21 In addition to providing a smoother reading flow, graphic novels draw students into applying important historical skills to their analysis of the material. ­Boerman-​­Cornell, drawing on the work of Samuel Wineburg, analyzed graphic novels in the areas of congeographic, temporal, social, and political context), sourcing textualization (­ (­embedded documents), and corroboration (­parallel accounts). ­Boerman-​­Cornell concluded that although the graphic novel format can support all three goals of historical communication, few graphic novels support all three areas adequately with contextualization generally being the strongest area.22 Abina and the Important Men compares favorably with the works examined by ­Boerman-​­Cornell in all three of these areas, but, as with the other graphic narratives, is much stronger in contextualization than in other areas.23 Abina and the Important Men, however, goes beyond a simple graphic presentation. The graphic portion of the book occupies fewer than half of the total pages of the volume, and instructors are understandably anxious that students engage with the full range of materials included to provide context for the story. Preeminent among these is the full text of a primary source document, the court transcript on which Getz and Clarke’s retelling of Abina’s story is based.

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  173

In considering effective methods for teaching a story that is retold in several formats, Wineburg’s work on historical reading and problem solving is particularly relevant.24 In his 1991 study, “­H istorical ­Problem-​­Solving,” Wineburg had his research subjects, eight students and eight professional historians, look at textual and visual sources (­both primary sources and secondary sources), and then observed their ­problem-​­solving approaches to using these resources. He found that professional historians had significantly different approaches than students to context, sources, and corroboration. While ­Boerman-​­Cornell used Wineburg’s categories for evaluation of the narrative techniques of historical graphic novels, Wineburg’s research is perhaps even more appropriate for developing teaching strategies for bridging the gaps between the graphic novel and primary source sections of Abina and the Important Men. One of the most important differences that Wineburg found between students and historians was that historians were much more aware of the potential authorial bias of texts. In Wineburg’s words, “­H istorians seemed to view texts not as vehicles but as people, not as bits of information to be gathered but as social exchanges to be understood”25; however, students tended to treat “­the details of authorship [as] incidental to considerations of a document’s worth.”26 The result was that students were more likely to see a textbook account, even a biased one, as more reliable than a fi ­ rst-​­hand description because it seemed to present “­straight information” or to be “­just reporting the facts.”27 This attitude also affects student responses to fictionalized treatments. While Wineburg found students suspicious of the reliability of a historical novel (­by Howard Fast), they nevertheless remembered the details while forgetting from which of several sources they learned them. For example, one student’s “­reservations about Fast fell away as he moved through the task, and details from Fast’s account were remembered even when their author was not.”28 When teaching a historical graphic novel alongside the fi ­ rst-​­hand source on which the graphic narrative is based, the problem is that students will find the graphic account not only more memorable but also organized in a way that seems clearer and more objective to them.29 Like the students in Wineburg’s study, when presented with pictorial evidence, they may also be judging the graphic history more on aesthetics than on its fidelity to trustworthy textual sources.30 In fact, their written and spoken comments on the text indicate that Tennessee State University students have a strong tendency to remember details from the graphic history as being “­true” and of great historical significance even when they are not found anywhere in either the primary source material or in the “­H istorical Context” materials that accompany the graphic presentation.31 A graphic novel is in many ways ideal for pointing out issues of agency. As Spencer Clark noted, the graphic format forces both author and reader to put a human face on actions and makes it more difficult for students to fall back on faceless institutions or ­non-​­human explanations for historical actions.32 Graphic novels also make clearer conflict between different characters with different viewpoints.33 This is particularly true with characters, who, because of gender, race, or ethnicity, are often represented as passive objects of the actions of others

174  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

in more traditional historical writing, but whose agency is clear in a format that emphasizes the perspectives and agency of multiple individuals.34 After highlighting the difference perspectives given voice in the graphic presentation, the instructor can then ask students to identify the different viewpoints represented in the primary source documents.35

Beyond the Graphic History In some ways, Getz and Clarke have done too good a job of writing a convincing narrative of Abina’s experience. The very accessibility of the graphic presentation leads students to regard it as “­real” and the numerous interpretive decisions that went into creating that narrative as trivial (­or ­non-​­existent). Drawing students into the primary sources, whose organization is less narrative and whose language is legalistic and stilted, after the experience of the lively dialogue and visually appealing illustrations of the graphic history is a challenge.36 In the case of Abina and the Important Men, the primary source is a courtroom transcript. Although the work represents the writing of a single individual, it also strives, however imperfectly, to record the exact words and sentiments of everyone in the courtroom. The graphic presentation makes clear the roles of the various participants in the courtroom and allows students to put the events described in the transcript in their proper order. Thus, the court transcripts begin with Abina’s meeting with James Davis, then looks back quickly at her entire journey from Assante to Cape Coast colony, before looking in more detail at specific episodes in her life, with a lengthy discussion of her time before coming to Cape Coast Colony in the middle of the transcript.37 The graphic portion of the book, however, begins with an overview of the situation in West Africa, then narrows its focus to Abina, and concludes chapter 1 with the introduction of her case to James Davis and (­through Davis) to William Melton.38 The graphic presentation thus does the work of reordering the events in the narrative into a more easily followed chronological format as well as providing important background and context for those not already familiar with the history and culture of ­n ineteenth-​ c­ entury Ghana. Court transcripts can naturally be used for ­in-​­class ­role-​­playing (­where students take the parts of the witnesses, the lawyers, and the judge) and to highlight deviations of the graphic novel from the exact presentation of the transcript. Another problem that students have with a graphic historical novel is that they do not always have sufficient background information to understand fully what is happening in the story. The third section of Abina and the Important Men is devoted to providing historical context, with sections on both general topics such as “­The British Civilizing Mission” and “­The Atlantic Slave Trade and Abolition” and topics more focused on the historical episode at hand, including “­The Gold Coast” and “­The Civilizing Mission in the Gold Coast.” If a student were to read through the book from cover to cover, he or she would encounter this historical background only after reading both the graphic history and the primary source

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  175

on which it was based. Pedagogically, however, it makes sense to give students at least some background ahead of any substantive discussion of graphic history and the court transcript. The temptation is to provide the students with the historical context first and have them read the graphic narrative only after they have a good grounding in the background information. Rafe Blaufarb, the author of Inhuman Traffick, the second in the Oxford University Press graphic history series, did just this, beginning the book with a section on historical background and putting the graphic history in the second section of the book. Subsequent titles in the series have, however, reverted to presenting the graphic material first. 39 Ultimately, we have found that the most effective teaching strategy is to build a lot of repetition into the unit. Students first receive some very general background, then they go through the graphic history in detail, at which point they realize that they need a better context to understand the story fully. A review of historical context before tackling the primary source evidence allows for a more sophisticated analysis, but also leads to more questions, particularly about courtroom procedure. From there, students might benefit by returning to the closing pages of the graphic novel, where Getz and Clarke present ­M ichel-​­Rolph Trouillot’s paradigm for explaining the systematic silencing of less privileged voices in the historical record.40 Putting Abina at the center of the graphic historical novel gives voice to someone (­an enslaved African woman), who would normally not have a voice because of race, because of gender, and because of wealth and social status. This is a highly effective narrative strategy and a natural outgrowth of the nature of the surviving evidence for her case. It does, however, lead the reader to overlook or at least discount other perspectives. Ironically, the one perspective best portrayed in the graphic novel and in the supporting materials is that of the British magistrate. Why does this work (­both in the graphic history and in the historical background) provide more insight into William Melton’s background, for whom few documents survive, but much less on the important African men in the courtroom? Melton’s background is largely a blank, other than his recorded decisions in court. Nevertheless, Getz and Clarke insert a fictionalized account of his education41 that is supported by discussions of British imperialist involvement in African trade and government and of the British civilizing mission in the “­H istorical Context” section of their book.42 Coverage of the African men involved in the case is less well developed. James Davis and Quamina Eddoo are largely known only from this case, but James Hutton Brew has a ­well-​­known history: “­We know more about Brew than any other person in this story.”43 His background is hinted at in the graphic history during a ­back-​­room exchange between him, James Davis, and William Melton44 and filled out in a paragraph in the “­H istorical Context” section of the book.45 For Quamina Eddoo and James Davis, the authors were forced, as with Melton, to create a backstory using “­a composite of evidence about other young men like him” in the case of Davis and to present Eddoo as merely a typical representative of his class and to note that “­l ike Abina, he has virtually disappeared from history

176  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

as it is written today.”46 The result, as Chaney noted (­see above), is that the reader comes away with a more sympathetic attitude toward Melton (­a man of limited perspective who is nevertheless trying to do his job fairly) than of Quamina Eddoo (­in Chaney’s words, one of the “­w icked palm oil slave drivers”). Eddoo’s case deserves additional attention. In the graphic novel and the court case alike, Eddoo appears as a slave owner who knows the tricks required to avoid conviction for his formerly legal and now outlawed labor practices. The second edition of Abina and the Important Men includes essays (­Section V “­Engaging Abina”) that further develop several points that were not fully explained in the earlier edition, with a focus on contextualizing gender and slavery as they affect Abina’s case. Thus, the essay by Kwasi Konadu does an excellent job of explaining the practice of slavery from the perspective of a woman such as Abina, enslaved as a result of regional conflict and negotiating her unfree status in the context of a traditional understanding of various types of slavery within west African society and mechanisms through which one could ameliorate one’s social condition. Konadu’s contribution does an admirable job of explaining how Abina would have understood her relationship with Eddoo but does not address Eddoo’s motives for having slaves (­other than simply as a ­cost-​­effective form of labor). Closer examination of Eddoo’s perspective points out the awkward situation of men living in a world where both African and European (­specifically British) ideas about family, gender roles, and labor pertained. In the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Asante families, for example, considered children to belong to the mother’s kin, even if they were living in the household with the father, but also that the father had some expectations (­often in return for food, housing, and upbringing) of labor from his children.47 Fathers who failed to live up to their commitments could find their children (­and their labor) returned to their maternal families.48 Historically, men who espoused unfree women then owned the children of that union in a way that they did not own children of marriage between a free man and a free woman, with all of the family connections and mutual obligations that implied.49 Under the influence of European ideas of the father’s rights over children (­spread by Christian missionaries and often enforced in the ­British-​­controlled judicial system), however, this distinction began to fade. At the same time, the introduction of more ­labor-​­intensive forms of agricultural exploitation, particularly in monoculture for export such as the palm oil industry, made access to a reliable and affordable labor supply important for those wanting to benefit from the new economic paradigm. By the twentieth century, law and practice had converged, leaving fathers with greater rights and fewer obligations toward their children. In the words of Jean Allman: As a father’s rights grew increasingly inalienable in colonial Asante, they were detached from any reciprocal obligations to his children. A father owned his children whether he provided them with subsistence or not. This transformation occurred at a time when the economic cost of rearing

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  177

children, particularly as a result of school fees, was rising dramatically. That cost would not be integrated into an ongoing system of exchange between a father and his children’s mother and their abusua. A father would not be obliged to meet them in order to retain his rights of use in his children. Indeed, there were increasingly fewer ways to encourage/­force/­persuade a father to view those costs as his obligation, because none of his actions or inactions could threaten his ownership of the children. Fatherhood was now a position endowed with inalienable rights; it was not something you did, that you negotiated via extended processes of exchange involving rights and service.50 Quamina Eddoo and Abina fall into a period of great historical change but meager evidence, after the detailed ­proto-​­anthropological accounts of the first Europeans to arrive on the West African coast but before the ready availability of oral histories from Africans in the early twentieth century which would become a major part of African historiography.51 Quamina Eddoo and men like him thus found themselves on unsure ground. The large numbers of displaced people caused by the recent Asante wars meant that they could bring workers into their households and fields under the traditional practice of assimilation of strangers into the abusua through temporary ­long-​­term servile status. However, old forms of coerced labor, including assimilative slavery, had been outlawed while new rights over members of their families were not yet universally recognized. They were important men, poised to reap huge profits from new types of economic activity but often required to hire lawyers to defend themselves if their methods were called into question. Although James Hutton Brew is the important man whose background is most fully developed by Getz and Clarke, they nevertheless omit some key points in his background. James Hutton Brew was not only a member of a wealthy and politically connected family, but also part of what one writer called an African intelligentsia in the Gold Coast.52 Brew was, in fact, a key figure in criticizing the colonial governor’s proposal for ending slavery in the Gold Coast. As Getz clearly explains when giving background on the history of slavery in the Gold Coast and the British approach to outlawing slavery, enforcement of laws against slavery were largely ­complaint-​­driven and local officials often looked the other way when violators were politically or economically important.53 The historiography of abolitionism in Africa and other British colonies has traditionally assumed that the leadership of the indigenous population was united in opposing abolition as an affront to traditional ways of life. Kwabena O. ­A kurang-​­Parry, however, has persuasively argued that in the case of the Gold Coast, at least, a vibrant African intellectual community had developed a clear abolitionist position, one that saw through the inefficacy of prohibition without adequate means of enforcement.54 James Hutton Brew played a key role in this, both as the author of abolitionist petitions to the governor in 1874 and as the editor of the Gold Coast Times in subsequent years, a time when abolitionist arguments were more

178  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

fully developed.55 Integrating some of these arguments and suggestions into the story of Abina would highlight Brew’s anomalous position as both an advocate of a more coherent policy against slavery and a defender of those who continue to benefit from unfree labor. Some of the suggestions for improvements in the system adopted by the British could also spur class discussion about the economic and social predicament of freed slaves such as Abina. One of the suggestions, for example, was that villages be set up for these individuals, thus giving them a place in the social and economic life of the community, a place not readily available to children and young women (­the majority of the slaves) without family in a society in which family relationships were key.56 While one can readily understand the reluctance of Getz and Clarke to complicate the story with historiographical debates, the omission of this material from their contextual background misses an opportunity for deepening student understanding of indigenous response to colonial rule and the ways in which policies affect those at all levels of society. Getz and Clarke do an admirable job of presenting the importance of the English legal system to William Melton, an Englishman, as well as to James Hutton Brew and James Davis, mixed-​­race Africans educated, at least in part, in English history and law. They gloss over, however, the demand, made by Brew as Quamina Eddoo’s legal representative, for trial by jury. The right to a trial by jury of one’s peers (­usually referenced alongside the Magna Carta) is one that is often invoked as among the most basic of the guarantees of the English judicial system.57 The invocation of this by Brew on Eddoo’s behalf suggests the investment in this system on Brew’s part, while Melton’s acquiescence to the request for a jury trial is a measure of the extent to which an English magistrate considered these universal rights open to all men living under British law. When Abina brought her case to William Melton’s courtroom, she was using what was for her a foreign judicial system to enforce her rights ­v is-­​­­à-​­vis foreign laws.58 Abina brought into the courtroom ideas of marriage, assimilative slavery, and freedom that overlapped with but were not identical to those held by Melton as a representative of the British legal system as applied in Africa. Getz and Clarke address many of the issues surrounding gender and status in their treatment of Abina’s case and their discussion of the historical context,59 but do not discuss directly how Abina’s experience of conflict resolution might have differed from what she experienced before her arrival in the ­British-​­controlled Cape Coast colony. If, as seems likely, she came from a region in which male chiefs controlled village affairs, attention to women’s issues such as marriage, family, and children was probably handled by a “­queenmother,” a female counterpart to the male village chief, who would have been a more comfortable and potentially more sympathetic audience to a woman seeking redress in matters of marriage and work.60 While Getz and Clarke rightly make clear that the paternalism of the British judicial system (­a s embodied by William Melton) did not serve enslaved women and children well,61 they do not suggest what alternatives Africans in the British courtroom might have known from their prior experiences with dispute resolution.

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  179

Conclusion Pedagogical deployment of graphic history in college classrooms is not entirely new in Western academy. The contemporary generation of students, whether in high school or college, is not particularly satisfied with a learning process that puts more emphasis on the typical reading text. In response, instructors too seeking more resourceful teaching experience are increasingly experimenting with “­outside the box” reading material that is more creative script to teach their courses. The use of historical graphic novel to teach ­A frica-​­themed subject is, however, limited, such that there is paucity of literature on this area of pedagogy. But Abina and the Important Men has had a very powerful impact on the possibility of using graphic history as an educational tool in the classroom. This chapter has expounded the character of the graphic history genre and its place in the historiography of African history. Using Abina and the Important Men as case study, this chapter has focused on its use as a supplemental teaching and learning material in a course designed to explore diverse styles of historical expression, including the graphic novel. Abina and the Important Men well illustrates both the potential and the pitfalls of using graphic novels in the college history classroom. On the one hand, the book provides not only an engaging recreation of Abina Mansah’s story in graphic form but also a wealth of primary and ­secondary-​­source materials. These materials allow the instructor to formulate lesson plans centered on different modes of historical narrative, the relationship between primary and secondary sources, and the importance of interpretive lenses such as race and gender in historical argument. On the other hand, with all of its rich supplementation, this work, as is true for most case studies (­whether presented as scholarly articles, ­m icro-​­histories, or graphic novels), merely scratches the surface of issues raised. Instructors can certainly benefit from the accessibility of the graphic history, its ­user-​­friendly introduction into African history and culture, and its potential to give students insight into historical methodology, but they should also be prepared to go well beyond the materials contained within the covers of the book if they want to give students a ­well-​­rounded presentation of the events leading to Abina Mansah’s appearance in court.

Notes 1 See Pam Watts. “­The Social Justice League: Expand your students’ definition of “­reading” with graphic n ­ ovels—​­stories that show and tell!” Teaching Tolerance Magazine, 49(­Spring 2015), https://­w ww.tolerance.org/­m agazine/­­spring-​­2015/­­the-­​ ­­social-­​­­justice-​­league, who discusses the potentially subversive messages of graphic treatments, as exemplified in her discussion of “­the classic underground comic book Martin Luther King and the Montgomery Story” and puts this work in the context of informal “­zines” that served a nonmainstream audience. 2 See Capstone’s website at http://­mycapstone.com/­­Our-​­Story. 3 The use of the graphic genre in the classroom has been widely studied. See, for instance, Alissa Burger (­ed.), Teaching Graphic Novels in the English Classroom: Pedagogical

180  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

Possibilities of Multimodal Literacy Engagement (­New York: Springer International Pub., 2017); Aşkın H. Yıldırım, “­Using Graphic Novels in the Classroom,” Journal of Language and Literature Education, 8, 2013: 1­ 18–​­31; Carrye Kay Syma and Robert Weiner (­eds.), Graphic Novels and Comics in the Classroom: Essays on the Educational Power of Sequential Art ( ­Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2013); Alicia C. Decker and Mauricio Castro, “­Teaching History with Comic Books: A Case Study of Violence, War, and the Graphic Novel,” The History Teacher 45(­2), 2012: ­169–​­87; Lila L. Christensen, “­Graphic Global Conflict: Graphic Novels in the High School Social Studies Classroom,” The Social Studies 97(­6), 2006: 2­ 27–​­30; and Katherine T. Bucher and M. Lee Manning, “­Bringing Graphic Novels into a School’s Curriculum,” The Clearing House 8(­2), 2004: ­67–​­72. 4 Other examples of graphic works in American history include Delphine Hirasuna, Long May She Wave: A Graphic History of the American Flag; Matt Doeden, The Sinking of the Titanic; Kay Melchisedech Olson, The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln, and Benjamin Franklin: An American Genius; Michael J. Martin, The Salem Witch Trials. 5 See Tennessee State University, “­ Undergraduate Catalogue: ­ 2017–​­ 2019,” 178, at http://­w ww.tnstate.edu/­academic_affairs/­documents/­Undergraduate_Catalog.pdf. 6 See Richard Kyle, ‘­The Future of Comics,” Wonderworld 2, November 1964: 3­ –​­4. A reproduced copy is found at http://­w ww.thecomicbooks.com/­m isc/­R ichard%20 Kyle%20The%20Future%20of%20Comics.pdf. 7 An important study of graphic novel is Stephen E. Tabachnick (­ed.), The Cambridge Companion to the Graphic Novel (­Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017). 8 See “­About Kachifo Limited,” retrieved April 2, 2020 at https://­k achifo.com/­about. php. 9 See “­About Story Press Africa,” retrieved April 2, 2020, at http://­storypressafrica.com/. 10 A great deal has been published on the Ugandan conflict. See, for example, Adam Dolnik and Herman Butime, Understanding the Lord’s Resistance Army Insurgency (­Hackensack, NJ: World Scientific, 2017); Lawrence E. Cline, Lord’s Resistance Army (­Santa Barbara, CA: Praeger, 2013); and Tim Allen and Koen Vlassenroot (­eds.), Lord’s Resistance Army: Myth and Reality (­New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010). 11 The novel was originally published in 2000 in French and translated in 2006. 12 Oxford University Press, Graphic History Series, https://­g lobal.oup.com/­academic/­ content/­series/­g /­­g raphic-­​­­h istory-­​­­series-​­g hs/?cc=us&lang=en&, accessed May 31, 2018. 13 The essential outline of the story is the same in both the court transcript and in the graphic history portion of Abina and the Important Men. 14 Jonathan T. Reynolds, “­Abina ­Forum—​­Reynolds Commentary,” ­H-​­World, https://­ lists.­h - ​­ n et.org/­­c gi- ​­ b in/­l ogbrowse.pl?trx=vx&list=­H - ​­ E mpire&month=1203& week=c&msg=NWDFERcJzEMAoQPwc8LVww&user=&pw=, March 19, 2012. Accessed May 31, 2018. 15 Maryanne Rhett, “­Abina ­Forum—​­R hett Commentary,” ­H-​­World, https://­ l i st s.­h - ​­ n et .or g /­­c g i- ​­ b i n /­l og brow se.pl? t r x=v x & l i st =­H - ​­ E m pi re & mont h= 1203&week=c&msg=NWDFERcJzEMAoQPwc8LVww&user=&pw=, March 19, 2012. Accessed September 18, 2022. Rhett made essentially the same points in Maryanne A. Rhett, “­Review of Abina and the Important Men by Trevor Getz and Liz Clarke,” Journal of World History 23(­4), 2012: ­941–​­43, JSTOR. 16 Michael A. Chaney, “­Review of Abina and the Important Men by Trevor Getz and Liz Clarke,” Biography 35(­2), 2012: ­375–​­77, JSTOR. In his review of an app created to accompany the printed book, William Fenton described the graphic history as “­a Trojan horse, a creative work designed to convey a historian’s methodologies”; see “­Tackling Slavery in the Classroom with a Graphic Novel and an App,” PC Magazine August 2016: 147. (­Full article: ­145–​­49). 17 Chaney, 376.

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  181

18 Laura Mitchell, “­Abina Forum,” ­H-​­World, March 23, 2012, http://­­h-​­net.msu.edu/ ­­c g i - ​­ b i n /­l o g b r ow s e.p l? t r x=v x & l i s t =­h - ​­ w o r l d & m on t h=12 0 3 & we e k=d & msg=hmVcZVYspVtEl5X6Hgl8oQ&user=&pw, accessed May 31, 2018. 19 Getz and Clarke, Abina and the Important Men, 2nd edition, Section V: ­159–​­84. Note that they are able to include this section because of the omission of an early section (“­Abina in the Classroom”) that occupied roughly the same place (­Section V) in the first edition (­­139–​­48). 20 Pam Watts, “­The Social Justice League: Expand your students’ definition of ‘­reading’ with graphic n ­ ovels—​­stories that show and tell!” Teaching Tolerance Magazine 49(­Spring): 2015, https://­w ww.tolerance.org/­m agazine/­­spring-​­2015/­­the-­​­­social-­​­­justice-​­league. 21 ­Boerman-​­Cornell, “­Using Historical Graphic Novels in ­H igh-​­School History Classes: Potential for Contextualization, Sourcing, and Corroborating,” The History Teacher 48(­2), 2015: ­209–​­10. 22 Ibid., ­216–​­20. 23 ­Boerman-​­Cornell included a table comparing twenty historical graphic novels in the areas of contextualization, sourcing, and corroboration by calculating the frequency of each category of historical interpretation Unfortunately, the table presents the inverse of what it promises. While B ­ oerman-​­Cornell has indicated that the “­Density” column represents “­1 instance per X pages,” it actually represents the inverse, pages per instance. For purposes of comparison with Abina and the Important Men, the math has been corrected to what was initially promised, instances/­page. When compared to the works studied by ­Boerman-​­Cornell, Abina and the Important Men does quite well. The two most dense works for contextualization in ­Boerman-​­Cornell’s analysis are Still I Rise with just over three occurrences per page and Campaign Trail with nearly five occurrences per page. A quick evaluation of the first chapter (­p­­p. ­5 –​­14) of Abina and the Important Men yields a frequency of nearly eight instances of contextualization per page. The numbers for sourcing and corroboration are lower (­both in the works reviewed by B ­ oerman-​­Cornell and in Abina), but Abina and the Important Men again fairs well with 0.30 for sourcing and 0.40 for corroboration in contrast to 0.37 (­Fax from Sarajevo) for sourcing and 0.12 ( ­Palestine) for corroboration. 24 Samuel S. Wineburg, “­H istorical Problem Solving: A Study of the Cognitive Processes Used in the Evaluation of Documentary and Pictorial Evidence,” Journal of Educational Psychology 83(­1), 1991: ­73–​­87. 25 Ibid., 83. 26 Ibid., 84. 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 29 In Wineburg’s study, one of the historians began very much as our students did (­fi xating on a memorable detail), but then s­elf-​­corrected by looking up the source and discounting the information as coming from one of the less reliable accounts (­a historical novel, in fact): He then flipped through the documents until he reached Document 3, and then broke out in laughter: ‘­Oh, that’s from Fast! Forget it! I can’t hold on to Fast, I can’t do that. But it’s funny, it stuck in my mind’ (­t: 18). (­­p. 84) 3 0 Wineburg, “­H istorical Problem Solving.” 31 The temptation for students to stray even farther from the graphic presentation is increased by the appearance of animated versions of the graphic history on the web. See, for example, eBuukuu, “­­Abina—​­Episode 1 (­Sample),” March 26, 2016, https://­ www.youtube.com/­watch?v=G06fe4DBZzg (­accessed September 14, 2018). 32 J. Spencer Clark, “­Encounters with Historical Agency: The Value of Nonfiction Graphic Novels in the Classroom,” The History Teacher 46(­4), August 2013: ­490–​­92.

182  Elizabeth Dachowski and Adebayo Oyebade

33 This point is made by almost all writers on using materials of this sort for teaching. See ­Boerman-​­Cornell, “­Using Historical Graphic Novels in ­H igh-​­School History Classes,” ­210–​­11, and Clark, 490. 34 Clark, “­Encounters with Historical Agency,” 492, noted that students focused on “­quality of the artwork (­especially its realism and detail).” 35 I prefer “­point of view” or “­v iewpoint” to “­bias,” as students have strong negative associations with the word “­bias” and thus are reluctant to ascribe bias to any but the most egregious and ­self-​­serving examples. 36 Note that the second volume in the series, Rafe Blaufarb’s, Inhuman Traffick: The International Struggle against the Transatlantic Slave Trade (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), opted to begin with the historical context and save the graphic presentation for the second section of the book. 37 Getz and Clarke, Abina and the Important Men, 87ff., specifically, 96. 38 Ibid., ­4 –​­14. 39 Rafe Blaufarb, Inhuman Traffick. 40 Getz and Clarke, Abina and the Important Men, 78. 41 Ibid., 74. 42 Ibid., ­119–​­22 and ­122–​­25 respectively. 43 Ibid., 130, but, as will be discussed later, Getz omits some key points in Brew’s background. 44 Ibid., ­48–​­51. 45 Ibid., 130. 46 Getz and Clarke, 128 and 131. There is, of course, a fourth African man, Abina’s husband/­m aster Yaw Awoah, who receives even less coverage than either of these. This is in part due to the recovery of his testimony only after the publication of the first edition of the book. Getz and Clarke slightly updated the graphic portion of the book and added his testimony to the primary sources included in the second section, but one imagines that a fuller development of his character and his role in the case was precluded by the expense of completely redoing large sections of the graphic history. 47 Jean Allman, “­Fathering, Mothering and Making Sense of “­Ntamoba”: Reflections on the Economy of C ­ hild-​­Rearing in Colonial Asante,” Africa: Journal of the International African Institute, 67(­2), 1997: 301. 48 Allman, 304. 49 Ibid., 304. 50 Ibid., 312. 51 Antoinette Burton, “­Sex and Slavery in the 1876 Case of Abina Mansah, in Trevor Getz and Liz Clarke, Abina and the Important Men: A Graphic History, 2nd edition (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), 183, laments the lack of oral histories of women of Abina’s generation, such as were collected in the early twentieth century and used to great effect by more recent historians such as Jean Allman and Victorian Tashjian. 52 Kwabena O. ­A kurang-​­Parry, “‘­We Shall Rejoice to See the Day When Slavery Shall Cease to Exist’: The Gold Coast Times, the African Intelligentsia, and Abolition in the Gold Coast,” History in Africa 31, 2004: ­19–​­42. 53 Getz and Clarke, Abina and the Important Men, ­125–​­27. 54 ­Akurang-​­Parry, “­We Shall Rejoice,” 22 and ­24–​­26. 55 Ibid., 31. 56 Ibid., 36. The Gold Coast editorials also called for abolition to be implemented in the entire Gold Coast area and not just the colony, narrowly defined, to the exclusion of the protectorate. 57 This is perhaps most eloquently invoked by Rumpole of the Bailey in the famous book/­television series, but the centrality of Magna Carta to English ideas about legal protections can also be seen in the numerous celebratory productions in honor of the 800th anniversary of the great charter, such as the British Library’s web page, https://­ www.bl.uk/­­m agna-​­carta.

Using the Graphic History Genre to Teach Africa  183

58 A question that remains unanswered is what Abina hopes to get out of this case. Clarke and Getz pose several possibilities, including a fear of ­re-​­enslavement (­present in the graphic history, but dismissed in the discussion in the historical context), the need for papers (­present in the graphic history but not discussed in text), and the wish to be heard, coupled with sense of her status as a married woman (­addressed both in the graphic history and in the supplementary materials). After initial publication of Abina and the Important Men, Getz coauthored an article that gives much more emphasis to marital status as a motivation in Abina’s testimony than is given in the graphic history or any of the supporting materials. See Trevor R. Getz, and Lindsay Ehrisman, “­The Marriages of Abina Mansah: Escaping the Boundaries of ‘­Slavery’ as a Category in Historical Analysis,” Journal of West African History 1(­1), 2015: ­93–​­118, accessed May 19, 2020. doi:10.14321/­jwestafrihist.1.1.0093. 59 Getz and Clarke, Abina and the Important Men, discusses cultural differences between Ghana and Britain in the areas of marriage, sexuality, slavery, and social status (­­122–​ ­26 and ­128–​­31) as well as providing several essays on gender and slavery (­­163–​­84). 60 Ebenezer Ayesu, “­From Independent Communities to State: Chieftancy and the Making of the Akuapem State, ­1730s–​­1900,” Transactions of the Historical Society of Ghana. New Series, No. 15, Articles from the Historical Society of Ghana’s seminars and conferences ­2007–​­2012, 2013: 98 and n. 25. (­See ­91–​­113 for the entire article). 61 Getz and Clarke, Abina and the Important Men, ­168–​­71.

11 AFROCENTRICITY AND AFRICANA STUDIES A Bibliographical Survey Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Introduction What has become more popularly known in the literature of Africana Studies as “­A frocentrism” is a conceptual paradigm that aims at situating the study of any aspect of the African humanities within the parameters of African epistemology and experiences. Often credited with the construction of this framework for studying African phenomena is Molefi Kete Asante, a professor in the Department of African American Studies at Temple University, the first institution in the United States to develop a doctoral program in Africana Studies. Elements of what conceptually constitutes the Afrocentric theory are evident in the works of several African American and African thinkers predating Asante’s scholarship. However, the most recognizable attempt at codifying the extant set of ideas into a theoretical structure termed “­A frocentricity” seems essentially that of Asante. Indeed, Asante is the most prolific proponent and theoretician of the Afrocentric theory which has undeniably sparked an intellectual movement in Africana Studies. Its major contribution to the Africana academy is its conceptualization as a system of knowledge production grounded on historical and cultural values of black people. Despite its shortcomings as it is true of every theoretical construct, more than any other paradigm in Africana Studies in the last thirty years, Afrocentricity has had the most significant philosophical impact on the field, at least in African American scholarship. Hundreds of works have been published on the theory and its deployment to study black phenomena. This chapter aims at building a bibliography of the Afrocentric project. Although not necessarily exhaustive, it is comprehensive enough to offer a useful tool for examining the fundamental elements of the theory and the way it has been applied in scholarly discourses in practically all academic fields, from history and sociology to psychoanalysis and spirituality. It also includes the perspectives of its critiques. The DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-14

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  185

entries are organized under the following ­sub-​­headings: Monographs, Chapters in Edited Books, Journal Articles, and Dissertations and Theses.

Part I: Monographs Adeleke, Tunde, The Case against Afrocentrism ( ­Jackson: The University Press of Mississippi, 2009). Nation-​­ Building: Theory and Practice in Afrikan Centered Education Akoto, Kwame G., ­ (­Washington, DC: Talking Stick Publishing, 1992). Ampim, Manu, Towards Black Community Development: Moving Beyond the Limitations of the Lecture Model: A Critical Review of the Current Africentric Movement (­Oakland, CA: Advancing the Research, 1996). Ani, Marimba, Yurugu: An African Centered Critique of European Cultural Thought and Behavior (­Trenton, NJ: African World Press, 1994). Asante, Kariamu Welsh (­ed.), The African Aesthetic: Keeper of the Traditions (­Westport, CT: Praeger, 1994). Asante, Molefi Kete and Clyde Ledbetter, Jr. (­eds.), Contemporary Critical Thought in Africology and Africana Studies (­Lanham: MD, Lexington Books, 2016). Asante, Molefi Kete, Afrocentricity: The Theory of Social Change (­Chicago, IL: African American Images, 2003). Asante, Molefi Kete, An Afrocentric Pan Africanist Vision: Afrocentric Essays (­Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2020). Asante, Molefi Kete, Facing South to Africa: Toward an Afrocentric Critical Orientation (­Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2014). Asante, Molefi Kete, Kemet, Afrocentricity, and Knowledge (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1990). Asante, Molefi Kete, Malcolm X as a Cultural Hero and Other Afrocentric Essays (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1993). Asante, Molefi Kete, The Afrocentric Idea (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 1998). Asante, Molefi Kete, The Afrocentric Manifesto (­Cambridge: Polity Press, 2008). Asante, Molefi Kete, and Ama Mazama, Afrocentric Infusion for Urban Schools: Fundamental Knowledge for Teachers (­Philadelphia, PA: Ankh, 2010). Austin, Algernon, Achieving Blackness: Race, Black Nationalism, and Afrocentrism in the Twentieth Century (­New York: New York University Press, 2006). Azibo, Daudi Ajani ya (­ed.), ­African-​­Centered Psychology: ­Culture-​­Focusing for Multicultural Competence (­Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press, 2003). Bailey, Joseph A., Afrocentric English and Critical Thinking (­Livermore, CA: Wingspan Press, 2006). Bailey, Randall C. (­ed.), Yet with a Steady Beat: Contemporary U.S. Afrocentric Biblical Interpretation (­Atlanta, GA: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003). Bangura, Abdul Karim, Branches of Asanteism (­Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2019). Banks, William L., No Respecter of Faces or Races: Black Theology, Afrocentrism, and the Christian Faith (­Philadelphia, PA: W.L. Banks, 1997). Binder, Amy J., Contentious Curricula: Afrocentrism and Creationism in American Public Schools (­Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2002). Bolling, John L., Heart of Soul: An Africentric Approach to P ­ sycho-​­Spiritual Wholeness: A Manual of the ­Rites-­​­­of-​­Passage to a ­Soul-​­Centered Worldview (­New York, NY: Mandala Rising Press, 1990).

186  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Carruthers, Jacob (­ed.), Kemet and the African Worldview (­L os Angeles, CA: Association for the Study of Classical African Civilizations, 1984). Conyers, James L. Jr. (­ed.), Molefi Kete Asante: A Critical Afrocentric Reader (­New York: Peter Lang, 2017). Conyers, James L. Jr. (­ed.), Afrocentric Traditions (­New York: Routledge, 2005). Conyers, James L. Jr. (­ed.), Afrocentricity and the Academy: Essays on Theory and Practice ( ­Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2003). Dompere, K. K., Africentricity and African Nationalism: Philosophy and Ideology for Africa’s Complete Emancipation (­Langley Park, MD: I.A.A.S. Publishers, 1992). ­Ekwe-​­Ekwe, Herbert and Femi Nzegwu, Operationalising Afrocentrism (­Reading, England: International Institute for Black Research, 1994). Giddings, Geoffrey Jahwara, Contemporary Afrocentric Scholarship: Toward a Functional Cultural Philosophy (­L ewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2003). Ginwright, Shawn A., Black in School: Afrocentric Reform, Urban Youth & the Promise of H ­ ip-​ ­hop Culture (­New York: Teachers College Press, 2004). Gray, Cecil Conteen, Afrocentric Thought and Praxis: An Intellectual History (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2001). Hamlet, Janice D. (­ed.), Afrocentric Visions: Studies in Culture and Communication (­New York: SAGE Publications, 1998). Henderson, Errol Anthony, Afrocentrism and World Politics: Towards a New Paradigm (­Westport, CT: Praeger, 1995). Howe, Stephen, Afrocentrism: Mythical Pasts and Imagined Homes (­L ondon: Verso, 1999). Kambon, Kobi, K. K., African/­Black Psychology in the American Context: An ­African-​­centered Approach (­Tallahassee, FL: Nubian Nations Productions, 1998). Keto, Tsehloane C., The Africa Centered Perspective of History (­London: Karnak House, 1994). Keto, Tsehloane C., Vision, Identity, and Time: The Afrocentric Paradigm and the Study of the Past (­Dubuque, IA: Kendall/­Hunt Pub. Co., 1995). Khokholkova, Nadezhda, Afrocentrism in the USA: Theory and Practise of Sociocultural Transformations (­Moscow: Institute for African Studies, 2019). King, Joyce Elaine and Ellen E. Swartz, Afrocentric Praxis of Teaching for Freedom: Connecting Culture to Learning (­New York: Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2016). Lef kowitz, Mary, Not Out of Africa: How Afrocentrism Became an Excuse to Teach Myth as History (­New York: Basic Books, 1996). Mazama, Ama (­ed.), Essays in Honor of an Intellectual Warrior, Molefi Kete Asante (­Paris: Menaibuc, 2008). Mazama, Ama (­ed.), The Afrocentric Paradigm (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2002). Milhouse, Virginia, and Molefi Asante (­eds.), Language and Afrocentricity, Transcultural Realities: International Perspectives on Cross Cultural Relations (­Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2001). Miller, John J., Alternatives to Afrocentrism (­Washington, DC: Center for the New American Community, Manhattan Institute, 1994). ­Monteiro-​­Ferreira, Ana, Demise of the Inhuman: Afrocentricity, Modernism, and Postmodernism (­A lbany, NY: SUNY Press, 2014). Myers, Linda James, Understanding an Afrocentric World View: Introduction to Optimal Psychology (­Dubuque, IA: Kendall/­Hunt, 1993). Nelson, W. E., Africology: From Social Movement to Academic Discipline (­Columbus, OH: Center for Research and Public Policy (­Ohio State University Black Studies Extension Center, 1989)). Okafor, Victor, Towards an Understanding of Africology (­Dubuque: Kendall/­Hunt, 2013).

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  187

Onyewuenyi, Innocent C., The African Origin of Greek Philosophy, An Exercise in Afrocentrism (­Nsukka: University of Nigeria Press, 1993). ­Perryman-​­Clark, Staci, Afrocentric ­Teacher-​­Research: Rethinking Appropriateness and Inclusion (­New York: Peter Lang, 2013). Peters, Ronald Edward and Marsha Snulligan Haney (­ eds.), Africentric Approaches to Christian Ministry: Strengthening Urban Congregations in African American Communities (­Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2006). Roberts, J. Deotis, Africentric Christianity: A Theological Appraisal for Ministry (­Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2000). Sanders, Cheryl J. (­ed.), Living the Intersection: Womanism and Afrocentrism in Theology (­M inneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1995). Schiele, Jerome H. Human Services and the Afrocentric Paradigm (­Binghamton, NY: The Haworth Press, 2000). Stern, Kenneth S., Dr. Jeffries and the ­Anti-​­Semitic Branch of the Afrocentrism Movement (­New York: American Jewish Committee, Institute of Human Relations, 1991). Usry, Glenn and Craig Keener, Black Man’s Religion: Can Christianity be Afrocentric? (­Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1996). Uzong, E., Africology. The Union Academic Council Series, African Studies Volume1 ( ­L ondon: The Union Academic Council for African Studies, 1969). Walker, Clarence Earl, We Can’t Go Home Again: An Argument about Afrocentrism (­Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001). ­Warfield- ​­Coppock, Nsenga, Afrocentric Theory and Applications (­Washington, DC: Baobab Associates, 1990). Wonkeryor, Edward Lama, On Afrocentricity, Intercultural Communication, and Racism (­L ewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen Press, 1998). Ziegler, Dhyana, Molefi Kete Asante and Afrocentricity: In Praise and Criticism (­Nashville, TN: James C. Winston Pub., 1995).

Part II: Chapters in Edited Books Adeleke, Tunde, “­A gainst ­Euro-​­Cultural Hegemony: Black Americans, Afrocentricity and Globalization,” in Wenche Ommundsen, Michael Leach, and Andrew Vandenberg (­eds.), Cultural Citizenship and the Challenges of Globalization (­Cresskill, NJ: Putnam Press, 2010), ­225–​­4 4. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­A frocentricity: Notes on a Disciplinary Position,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Maulana Karenga (­eds.), Handbook of Black Studies (­Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2006), ­67–​­75. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­R ace, Consciousness and Afrocentricity,” in Gerald Early (­ed.), Lure and Loathing: Essays on Race, Identity and the Ambivalence of Assimilation (­New York: Penguin Books, 1993), ­127–​­43. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­The Philosophy of Afrocentricity,” in Adesina Afolayan and Toyin Falola (­eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of African Philosophy (­New York: Palgrave, 2017), ­231–​­45. Baldwin, Joseph, “­Notes on an Africentric Theory of Black Personality,” in Talmadge Anderson (­ed.), Black Studies: Theory, Method, and Cultural Perspectives (­Pullman: Washington State University Press, 1990), ­132–​­43. Baptiste, Fitzroy A., “­A ncient Africa: The Europocentric/­A frocentric Debate Revisited,” in Gloria ­Thomas-​­Emeagwali (­ed.), Africa and the Academy: Challenging Hegemonic Discourses on Africa (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World, 2006), ­31–​­59.

188  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Bekerie, Ayele, “­The Four Corners of a Circle: Afrocentricity as a Model of Synthesis,” in James L. Conyers (­ed.), Qualitative Methods in Africana Studies: An Interdisciplinary Approach to Examining Africana Phenomena (­Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2016), ­257–​­73. Jackson, Robert L., “­A frocentricity as Metatheory: A Dialogic Exploration of its Principles,” in Robert L. Jackson and Elaine B. Richardson (­eds.), Understanding African American Rhetoric: Classical Origins to Contemporary Innovations (­New York: Routledge, 2003), ­115–​­29. Karenga, Maulana, “­Molefi Asante and the Afrocentric Initiative: Mapping the Terrain of His Intellectual Impact,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Ama Mazama (­eds.), Essays in Honor of an Intellectual Warrior (­Paris: Menaibuc, 2008), ­17–​­49. Kambon, Kobi, “­The Africentric Paradigm and ­A frican-​­American Psychological Liberation,” in Daudi Ajani Ya Azibo (­ed.), African Psychology in Historical Perspective and Related Commentary (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 1996), ­57–​­69. Mazama, Ama, “­The Afrocentric Paradigm: Contours and Definitions,” in James L. Conyers, Jr. (­ed.), Qualitative Methods in Africana Studies: An Interdisciplinary Approach to Examining Africana Phenomena (­Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2016), ­275–​­92. Mutisya, Masila P. and Louie E. Ross, “­A frocentricity and Racial Socialization among African American College Students,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Maulana Karenga (­eds.), Handbook of Black Studies (­Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2006), ­67–​­75. Reviere, Ruth, “­The Canons of Afrocentric Research,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Maulana Karenga (­eds.), Handbook of Black Studies (­Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2006), ­262–​­74. Sesanti, Simphiwe, “­A frocentric Journalism for ­Pan-​­Africanism and the African Renaissance: An Ethical Imperative,” in Chris Jones (­ed.), ­Justice-​­Based Ethics: Challenging South Africa Perspectives (­Cape Town: AOSIS Ltd., 2018), ­63–​­86. Winters, Clyde, “­A ncient Afrocentric History and the Genetic Model,” in Molefi Kete Asante and Ama Mazama (­eds.), Egypt vs. Greece and the American Academy: The Debate Over the Birth of Civilization (­Chicago, IL: African American Images, 2002), ­120–​­64.

Part III: Journal Articles Abarry, Abu, “­A frocentricity Introduction,” Journal of Black Studies 21(­2): ­123–​­24. Adeleke, Tunde, “­A frica and Afrocentric Historicism: A Critique,” Advances in Historical Studies 4, 2015: ­200–​­15. Adeleke, Tunde, “­Will the Real Father of Afrocentricity Please Stand,” Western Journal of Black Studies 25 (­Spring), 2001: ­21–​­29. Akbar, Naim, “­A fricentric Social Science for Human Liberation,” Journal of Black Studies 14(­4), 1984: ­395–​­414. Aldridge, Delores P., “­On Race and Culture: Beyond Afrocentrism, Eurocentrism to Cultural Democracy,” Sociological Focus 33(­1), 2000: ­95–​­107. Allahar, Anton, “­Ethnic Entrepreneurship and Nationalism in Trinidad: Afrocentrism and Hindutva,” Social and Economic Studies 53 ( ­June), 2004: ­117–​­54. Alleyne, Vanessa L., “­A fricentric Cultural Values: Their Relation to Positive Mental Health in African American Adolescent Girls,” Journal of Black Psychology 32 (­May), 2006: ­141–​­54. Anderson, R., “­Molefi Kete Asante: The Afrocentric Idea and the Cultural Turn in Intercultural Communication Studies,” International Journal of Intercultural Relations 36(­6), 2012: ­760–​­69.

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  189

Appiah, Kwame A., “­Europe Upside Down: Fallacies of the New Afrocentrism,” Sapina Newsletter: A Bulletin of the Society for African Philosophy in North America 5(­1), 1993: ­1–​­8. Armstrong, Ketra L., “­Black Students’ Responses to Afrocentric Communication Stimuli,” Journal of Black Psychology 31, 2005: ­67–​­86. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­A Reply to the Review of my Book Kemet, Afrocentricity and Knowledge,” Research in African Literatures 23(­3), 1992: ­152–​­55. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­A frocentricity and History: Mediating the Meaning of Culture in Western Society,” Souls: A Critical Journal of Black Politics, Culture, and Society 2(­3), 2000: ­50–​­62. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­A frocentricity and the Human Future,” Black Books Bulletin 8, 1991: ­137–​­40. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­Intellectual Dislocation: Applying Analytic Afrocentricity to Narratives of Identity,” Howard Journal of Communications 13(­1), 2002: ­97–​­110. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­The Afrocentric Idea in Education,” Journal of Negro Education 60(­2), 1991: ­170–​­80. Asante, Molefi Kete, “­The Ideological Significance of Afrocentricity in Intercultural Communication,” Journal of Black Studies 14(­1), 1983: ­3 –​­19. Balakrishnan, Sarah, “­A frocentrism Revisited: Africa in the Philosophy of Black Nationalism,” Soul: A Critical Journal of Black Politics, Culture, and Society 22(­1), 2020: ­71–​­88. Baldwin, Joseph A., “­A frocentric Cultural Consciousness and A ­ frican-​­American ­Male-​ ­Female Relationships,” Journal of Black Studies 21 (­December), 1990: ­162–​­89. Bankole, Katherine Olukemi, “­A Preliminary Report and Commentary on the Structure of Graduate Afrocentric Research and Implications for the Advancement of the Discipline of Africalogy, 1­ 980–​­2004,” Journal of Black Studies 36 (­M ay), 2006: ­663–​­97. Banks, Reginald, Aaron Hogue, and Terri Timberlake, “­A n Afrocentric Approach to Group Social Skills Training with ­Inner-​­City African American Adolescents,” Journal of Negro Education 65(­4), 1996: ­414–​­23. Barbour, Warren, “­ They Were Not Here before Columbus: Afrocentric H ­ yper-​ ­Diffusionism in the 1990s,” Ethnohistory 44(­2), 1997: ­199–​­234. Bates, Benjamin R., Windy Y. Lawrence, and Mark Cervenka, “­Redrawing Afrocentrism: Visual Nommo in George H. Ben Johnson’s Editorial Cartoons,” Howard Journal of Communications 19(­4), 2008: ­277–​­96. Bay, Mia, “­The Historical Origins of Afrocentrism,” Amerikastudien/­American Studies 45(­ 4) 2000: ­501–​­12. Belgrave, Faye Z., “­The Contribution of Africentric Values and Racial Identity to the Prediction of Drug Knowledge, Attitudes, and Use Among African American Youth,” Journal of Black Psychology 26 (­November), 2000: ­386–​­401. Bell, Yvonne R., Cathy L. Bouie, and Joseph A. Baldwin, “­A frocentric Cultural Con­ ale-​­Female Relationships,” Journal of Black Studies sciousness and African American M 21(­2), 1990: ­163–​­89. Bernal, Martin, “­The Afrocentric Interpretation of History: Bernal Replies to Lef kowitz,” Journal of Blacks in Higher Education 11(­Spring) 1996: ­86–​­94. Bethel, Kathleen, “­Culture Keepers: Cataloging the Afrocentric Way,” The Reference Librarian 21, 1994: ­221–​­40. Blake, Cecil, “­A frocentric tokens: Afrocentric Methodology in Rhetorical Analysis,” Howard Journal of Communications 8(­1), 1997: ­1–​­14. Borum, Valerie, “­A frican Americans’ Perceived Sociocultural Determinants of Suicide: Afrocentric Implications for Public Health Inequalities,” Social Work in Public Health 29(­7), 2014: ­656–​­70.

190  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Borum, Valerie, “­W hy We Can’t Wait! An Afrocentric Approach in Working with African American Families,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 15(­­2 –​­3), 2007: ­117–​­35. Borum, Valerie, “­A frican Americans, U.S. Poverty, and International Law: An Afrocentric Cultural Revolution,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 15(­1), 2007: ­99–​­120. Boyd, Alex, and Catherine J. ­L enix-​­Hooker, “­A frocentricism: Hype or History,” Library Journal 117(­18), 1992: ­46–​­49. Byrdsong, T. Rashad, Anthony B. Mitchell, and Hide Yamatani, “­A frocentric Intervention Paradigm: An Overview of Successful Application by a Grassroots Organization,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 23(­8), 2012: ­931–​­37. Cabral, Cristina R., “‘­Changó, El Gran Putas’: El Afrocentrismo Estructural Y Temático De ‘­L os Orígenes’,” ­Afro-​­Hispanic Review 20 (­Spring), 2001: ­79–​­89. Celucien, Joseph L., “­A nténor Firmin, the ‘­Egyptian Question’ and Afrocentric Imagination,” The Journal of Pan African Studies 7(­2), 2014: ­127–​­76. Chukwuokolo, J. C., “­A frocentrism or Eurocentrism: The Dilemma of African Development,” Ogirisi, A New Journal of African Studies 6, 2009: ­25–​­41. Collins, Donald and Marc Hopkins, “­A frocentricity: The Fight for Control of African American Thought,” Black Issues in Higher Education 10(­12), 1993: ­24–​­25. Conyers, James L., “­The Evolution of Africology: An Afrocentric Appraisal,” Journal of Black Studies 34(­5), 2004: ­640–​­50. Conyers, James L., “­­A frican-​­Centricity and ­Techno-​­Scientific Education: A ­Twenty-​ ­First Century Polemic,” International Journal of Africana Studies 11 (­Spring), 2005: ­122–​­31. Cooksey, Ben, “­A frocentricity: Will This New Approach to Education Provide the Answers to a System Plagued with Inequalities,” Journal of Law  & Education 22(­1), 1993: ­127–​­33. Covin, David, “­A frocentricity in O Movimento Negro Unificado,” Journal of Black Studies 21 (­December), 1990: ­126–​­4 4. Cummings, Melbourne S., and Abhik Roy, “­Manifestations of Afrocentricity in Rap Music,” Howard Journal of Communications 13(­1), 2002: ­59–​­76. Davis, Sarita K., Aisha D. Williams, and Makungu Akinyela, “­A n Afrocentric Approach to Building Cultural Relevance in Social Work Research,” Journal of Black Studies 41(­2), 2010: ­338–​­50. Dei, George J. Sefa, “­A frocentricity: A Cornerstone of Pedagogy,” Anthropology & Education Quarterly 25(­1), 1994: ­3 –​­28. Dick, A. L., “­The ­A frocentric-​­Eurocentric Debate in Africa from a Fruitless Dichotomy to Critical Dialogue (­Brief Communication),” International Information & Library Review 27(­2), 1995: ­195–​­202. Dixon, Brenda, “­The Afrocentric Paradigm,” Design for Arts in Education 92(­3), 1991: ­15–​­22. Dove, Nah, “­A frican Womanism: An Afrocentric Theory,” Journal of Black Studies 28(­5), 1998: ­515–​­39. Early, Gerald, Wilson J. Moses, Louis Wilson, and Mary R. Lef kowitz, “­Symposium: Historical Roots of Afrocentrism,” Academic Questions 7(­2), 2007: ­44–​­54. Early, Gerald, “­A frocentrism: From Sensationalism to Measured Deliberation,” Journal of Blacks in Higher Education 5, 1994: ­86–​­87. Fairfax, Colita Nichols, “­Community Practice and the Afrocentric Paradigm,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 27(­­1–​­2), 2017: ­73–​­80.

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  191

Felder, Cain Hope, “­A frocentrism, the Bible, and the Politics of Difference,” The Princeton Seminary Bulletin 15(­2), 1994): ­131–​­42. Ferguson, Stephen, “­The Utopian Worldview of Afrocentricity: Critical Comments on a Reactionary Philosophy,” Socialism and Democracy 25, 2011: ­44–​­70. ­Fila-​­Bakabadio, Sarah, “­Building up French Blackness through an Afrocentric Lens?” African and Black Diaspora: An International Journal 4(­2), 2011: ­115–​­30. Fine, Mark A., “­The Development and Validation of an Instrument to Assess an Optimal Afrocentric World View,” Journal of Black Psychology 17 (­Fall), 1990: ­37–​­54. Fitchue, M. Anthony, “­A frocentricity: Reconstructing Cultural Values,” Black Issues in Higher Education 10(­15), 1993: ­38–​­39. Fox, Robert, Elliot, “­A frocentrism and the ­X-​­Factor,” Transition 57, 1992: ­17–​­25. Frisby, Craig L., “‘­A frocentric’ Explanations for School Failure: Symptoms of Denial, Frustration, and Despair,” School Psychology Review 22(­3), 1993: ­568–​­77. Gaines, Kevin, “­Black Studies, Afrocentrism and ­Coalition-​­Building: St. Clair Drake’s ‘­Black Folk Here and There,’” Black Scholar 32 (­Spring), 2002: ­2 –​­10. Giddings, Geoffrey Jahwara, “­Infusion of Afrocentric Content into the School Curriculum: Toward an Effective Movement,” Journal of Black Studies 31 (­March), 2001: ­462–​­82. Green, Cheryl Evans, “­Sisters Mentoring Sisters: Africentric Leadership Development for Black Women in the Academy,” Journal of Negro Education 70 (­Summer), 2001: ­156–​­65. Greene, Deric M., “­Exploring Afrocentricity: An Analysis of the Discourse of Jesse Jackson,” Journal of African American Studies 9 (­Spring) 2006: ­61–​­71. Grills, C., and Longshore, D., “­A frocentrism: Psychometric Analyses of a ­Self-​­Report Measure,” Journal of Black Psychology 22(­1), 1996: ­86–​­107. Gulson, Kalervo N., and P. Taylor Webb, “‘­A Raw, Emotional Thing:’ School Choice, Commodification and the Racialised Branding of Afrocentricity in Toronto, Canada,” Education Inquiry 4(­1), 2013: ­167–​­87. Gulson, Kalervo N., and P. Taylor Webb, “­Education Policy Racialisations: Afrocentric Schools, Islamic Schools, and the New Enunciations of Equity,” Journal of Education Policy 27(­6), 2012: ­697–​­709. Hale, Janice E., “­Rejoinder to‘… Myths of Black Cultural Learning Styles’ in Defense of Afrocentric Scholarship,” School Psychology Review 22(­3), 1993: ­558–​­61. Harris, Heather E., “­The Imperatives of Community Service for Afrocentric Academics,” Journal of Black Studies 34 (­May) 2004: ­672–​­85. Harris, Norman, “­A Philosophical Basis for an Afrocentric Orientation,” Western Journal of Black Studies 16(­3), 1992: ­154–​­59. Harris, N., “­A frocentrism: Concept and Method,” Western Journal of Black Studies 16(­3), 1992: ­154–​­59. Hatcher, Schnavia Smith, “­Recognizing Perspectives on Community Reentry from Offenders with Mental Illness: Using the Afrocentric Framework and Concept Mapping with Adult Detainees,” Journal of Offender Rehabilitation 49(­8), 2010: ­536–​­50. Henderson, Errol A., “­Through a Glass Darkly: Afrocentrism, War, and World Politics,” New Political Science 23(­2), 2002: ­203–​­23. Henderson, Neil and Jamil F. Khan, “‘­I will die if I have to go into an old age home:’ Afrocentric Options for Care of Older LGBT People in South Africa,” Agenda 34(­1), 2020: ­94–​­107. Hollingsworth, Leslie D., and Frederick B. Phillips, “­A frocentricity and Social Work Education,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 27(­­1–​­2), 2017: ­48–​­60.

192  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Hoskins, Linus A., “­­Afro-​­centric Perspectives on European International Political Economy,” Imhotep: An Afrocentric Review 1(­1), 1989: ­35–​­50. Hoskins, Linus A., “­Eurocentrism vs. Afrocentrism: A Geographical Linkage Analysis,” Journal of Black Studies 23(­2), 1992: ­247–​­57. Israel, Adrienne M., “­The Afrocentric Perspective in African Journalism: A Case Study of The Ashanti Pioneer: ­1939–​­1957,” Journal of Black Studies 22 (­March), 1992: ­411–​­28. Jackson, John L., “­Beyond the Quest for Paradigmatic Coherence: ­Double-​­Consciousness, Afrocentricity, and Multicontextualism in Black Studies,” International Journal of Africana Studies 11 (­Spring), 2005: ­1–​­23. Jenkins, Morris, “­Gullah Island Dispute Resolution: An Example of Afrocentric Restorative Justice,” Journal of Black Studies 37 (­November) 2006: ­299–​­319. ­Johnson-​­Cooper, Glendora, “­Building Racially Diverse Collections: An Afrocentric Approach,” The Reference Librarian 21(­­45–​­46), 1994: ­153–​­70. Kershaw, Terry, “­A frocentrism and the Afrocentric Method,” Western Journal of Black Studies 16(­3), 1992: ­160–​­68. Khokholkova, Nadezhda, “­A frocentricity: The Evolution of the Theory in the Context of American History,” Social Evolution & History 15(­1), 2016: ­111–​­25. Kifano, Subira, “­A frocentric Education in Supplementary Schools: Paradigm and Practice at the Mary Mcleod Bethune Institute,” Journal of Negro Education 65(­2), 1996: ­209–​­18. King, Anthony E. O., “­A n Afrocentric Cultural Awareness Program for Incarcerated ­A frican-​­A merican Males,” Journal of Multicultural Social Work 3(­4), 1994: ­17–​­28. Lef kowitz, Mary, “­ The Afrocentric Interpretation of Western History: Lef kowitz Replies to Bernal,” The Journal of Blacks in Higher Education 12 (­Summer), 1996: ­88–​­91. Longshore, Douglas, Cheryl Grills, and Kiku Annon, “­Promoting Recovery from Drug Abuse: An Africentric Intervention.” Journal of Black Studies 28(­3), 1998: ­319–​­33. Maat, Sekhmet Ra Em Kht, “­A n Essay on God as the Bicameral Mind: Implications for Africological Research,” Journal of Pan African Studies 2(­2), 2008: ­28–​­43. Mabvurira, Vincent, Jabulani Calvin Makhubele, and Linda Shirindi, “­Healing Practices in Johane Masowe Chishanu Church: Toward Afrocentric Social Work with African Initiated Church Communities,” Studies on ­Ethno-​­Medicine 9(­3), 3015: ­425–​­34. Marimba, Benson Kairichi, “­Revisiting the Discourse on Afrocentricity and an Afrological Method,” European Journal of Social Sciences Studies 2(­5), 2017: ­195–​­203. Mazama, Ama, “­The Relevance of Ngugi Wa Thiong’o for the Afrocentric Quest,” Western Journal of Black Studies 18(­4), 1994: ­211–​­18. McLaren, Joseph, “­Ngugi Wa Thiong’o’s Moving the Centre and Its Relevance to Afrocentricity,” Journal of Black Studies 28(­3), 1988: ­386–​­97. McNair, Lily D., “­A frican American Women in Therapy: An Afrocentric and Feminist Synthesis,” Women & Therapy 12(­­1–​­2), 1992: ­5 –​­19. McPhail, Mark Lawrence, “­From Complicity to Coherence: Rereading the Rhetoric of Afrocentricity,” Western Journal of Communication 62(­2), 1998: ­114–​­40. ­Monteiro-​­Ferreira, Ana Maria, “­Reevaluating Zulu Religion: An Afrocentric Analysis.” Journal of Black Studies 35 ( ­January) 2005: ­347–​­63. Moore, Sharon E., “­Substance Abuse Treatment with Adolescent African American Males: Reality Therapy with an Afrocentric Approach,” Journal of Social Work Practice in the Addictions 1(­2), 2001: ­21–​­32. Morasso, Carla Maria, “­A frocentrism and Regional Leadership: An Approach to the Identity of Nigerian Foreign Policy,” Brazilian Journal of African Studies 4(­7), 2019: ­151–​­67.

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  193

Morgan, Gordon D., “­A fricentricity in Social Science,” Western Journal of Black Studies 15(­4), 1991: ­197–​­206. Morikawa, Suzuko, “­The Significance of Afrocentricity for ­Non-​­Africans: Examination of the Relationship between African Americans and the Japanese,” Journal of Black Studies 34 (­March), 2001: ­423–​­36. Mungwini, Pascah, “­The Challenges of Revitalizing an Indigenous and Afrocentric Moral Theory in Postcolonial Education in Zimbabwe,” Educational Philosophy and Theory 43(­7), 2011: ­773–​­87. Murove, Felix, “­A n Afrocentric Conceptualisation of Life and Immortality of Values: A Critical Investigation on the Paranormal and Human Dignity in Southern Africa,” South African Journal of Philosophy 39(­2), 2020: ­179–​­93. Mutsya, P. Masila, “­A frocentricity and Racial Socialization among African American College Students,” Journal of Black Studies 35 ( ­January), 2005: ­235–​­47. Myers, Linda James, “­Transpersonal Psychology: The Role of the Afrocentric Paradigm,” Journal of Black Psychology 12(­1), 1985: ­31–​­42. Njeza, Malinge, “‘­Fallacies of the New Afrocentrism’: A Critical Response to Kwame A Appiah,” Journal of Theology for Southern Africa 99 (­November), 1997: ­47–​­57. Nuruddin, Yusuf, “­A fricana Studies: Which Way F ­ orward– ​­Marxism or Afrocentricity? Neither Mechanical Marxism nor Atavistic Afrocentrism,” Socialism and Democracy 25(­1), 2011: ­93–​­125. Okafor, Victor Oguejiofor, “­The Functional Implications of Afrocentrism,” Western Journal of Black Studies 18(­4), 1994: ­185–​­94. Okafor, Victor Oguejiofor, “­The Place of Africalogy in the University Curriculum,” Journal of Black Studies 26(­6), 1999: ­688–​­712. Okafor. Victor Oguejiofor, “­Diop and the African Origin of Civilization: An Afrocentric Analysis,” Journal of Black Studies 22, 1991: ­252–​­68. Okur, Nilgun Anadolu, “­Foremothers Remembered: An Afrocentric Quest into the Works of Lucy Terry and Phillis Wheatley,” The International Journal of Africana Studies: National Council for Black Studies 4(­1&2), 1996: ­39–​­53. Okur, Nilgun Anadolu, “­A frocentricity as a Generative Idea in the Study of African American Drama,” Journal of Black Studies 24(­1), 1993: ­88–​­108. Orlando, Valérie, “­The Afrocentric Paradigm and Womanist Agendas in Ousmane Sembène’s Faat Kiné (­2001),” Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 26, 2006: ­213–​­24. Oshewolo, Segun, “­Bringing Back the Issues: Nigeria’s Afrocentric Policy under President Olusegun Obasanjo,” Commonwealth & Comparative Politics 57(­3), 2019: ­324–​­42. Oyebade, Adebayo, “­A frican Studies and the Afrocentric Paradigm: A Critique,” Journal of Black Studies 21(­2), 1990: ­233–​­38. Pellebon, Dwain, “­Is Afrocentricity Marginalized in Social Work Education? A Survey of HBSE Instructors,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 22(­1), 2012: ­1–​­19. Pellebon, Dwain, “­The ­A sante-​­based Afrocentricity Scale: Developing a Scale to Measure Asante’s Afrocentricity Paradigm,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 21(­1), 2011: ­35–​­56. Perry, Robert L., and Alice A. Tait, “­A frican Americans in Television: An Afrocentric Analysis,” Western Journal of Black Studies 18(­4), 1994: ­195–​­200. Phillips, Frederick B., “­Ntu Psychotherapy: An Afrocentric Approach,” Journal of Black Psychology 17, 1990: ­55–​­74. ­ ealth-​­Related Physical Activity,” Pittman, Beverly D., “­The Afrocentric Paradigm in H Journal of Black Studies 33, 2003: ­623–​­36.

194  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Plybon, Laura E., et.al., “­The Impact of Body Image and Afrocentric Appearance on Sexual Refusal S­ elf-​­efficacy in Early Adolescent African American Girls,” Sex Education: Sexuality, Society and Learning 9(­4), 2009: ­437–​­48. Poe, Zizwe, “­The Construction of an Africalogical Method to Examine Nkrumahism’s Contribution to PanAfrican Agency,” Journal of Black Studies 31, 2001: ­729–​­45. Rapanyane, Makhura B., “­China’s Involvement in the Democratic Republic of Congo’s Resource Curse Mineral Driven Conflict: An Afrocentric Review,” Contemporary Social Science 17(­2), 2022: ­117–​­28. Reed, W. Edward, Erma J. Lawson, and Tyson Gibbs, “­A frocentrism in the 21st Century,” Western Journal of Black Studies 21(­3), 1997: ­173–​­79. Reinhardt, Thomas, “­W ho’s Afraid of Afrocentrists? Counter Histories, Political Correctness and the Critics’ Silence,” Revista Anthropologicas 15(­­22–​­2), 2011: ­84–​­100. Reviere, Ruth, “­Toward an Afrocentric Research Methodology,” Journal of Black Studies 31 ( ­July), 2001: ­709–​­28. Richards, Harriet, “­The Teaching of Afrocentric Values by African American Parents,” Western Journal of Black Studies 21(­1), 1997: ­42–​­50. Richardson, Elaine, “­Critique on the Problematic of Implementing Afrocentricity into Traditional Curriculum: ‘­The Powers That Be’,” Journal of Black Studies 31 (­November 2000): ­196–​­213. Rodgers, Salena T., “­Womanism and Afrocentricity: Understanding the Intersection,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment,” 27(­­1–​­2), 2017: ­36–​­47. Roy, Abhik, and Bayo Oludaja, “­Appreciating African American Rhetoric through the Lens of Afrocentricity,” Comparative Literature: East & West 17(­1), 2012: ­1–​­19. Saakana, Amon Saba, “­Mythology and History an Afrocentric Perspective of the World,” Third Text 2(­­3 –​­3), 1988: ­143–​­49. Samuel, Bassey, et al., “­Eurocentric and Afrocentric Views on the Origin of Philosophy,” International Journal of Modern Research and Reviews 4(­12), 2016: ­1431–​­34. Sanders, Cheryl J., “­ A frocentricity and Theological Education,” Journal of Religious Though ­Fall-​­Spring 50(­1), ­1993–​­1994: ­11–​­26. Sanneh, Kelefa, “­Under Review: After the Beginning Again: The Afrocentric Ordeal,” Transition 10, 2001: ­66–​­89. Schiele, Jerome H., “­A frocentricity: An Emerging Paradigm in Social Work Practice,” Social Work 41(­3), 1996: ­284–​­94. Schiele, Jerome H., “­A frocentricity: Implications for Higher Education,” Journal of Black Studies 25(­2), 1994: ­150–​­69. Schiele, Jerome H., “­The Afrocentric Paradigm in Social Work: A Historical Perspective and Future Outlook,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 27(­­1–​­2), 2017: ­15–​­26. Schiele, Jerome H., “­The Contour and Meaning of Afrocentric Social Work,” Journal of Black Studies 27(­6), 1997: ­800–​­19. Schiele, Jerome H., “­W hen White Boys Kill: An Afrocentric Analysis,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 4(­4), 2001: ­253–​­73. Semmes, Clovis E., “­Foundations of an Afrocentric Social Science: Implications for ­Curriculum-​­Building, Theory, and Research in Black Studies,” Journal of Black Studies 12, 1981: ­3 –​­17. Sesanti, Simphiwe, “­A frocentric Education’s Foundations of Wangari Maathai’s Philosophical (­Ethical) Leadership, South African Journal of Philosophy 40(­4), 2021: ­395–​­409. Sesanti, Simphiwe, “­Decolonized and Afrocentric Education: For Centering African ­ e-​­Membering, and the African Renaissance,” Journal of Women in Remembering, R Black Studies 50(­5), 2019: ­431–​­49.

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  195

Sesanti, Simphiwe, “­Teaching Ancient Egyptian Philosophy (­Ethics) and History: Fulfilling a Quest for a Decolonised and Afrocentric Education,” Educational Research for Social Change 7, 2018: ­1–​­15. Sesanti, Simphiwe, “­The African Renaissance as a Reversal of Conquest Expressed in Naming: An Afrocentric Engagement,” South African Journal of Philosophy 37(­4), 2018: ­502–​­14. Sesanti, Simphiwe, “­The Concept of ‘­respect’ in African Culture in the Context of Journalism Practice: An Afrocentric Intervention,” Comminicatio: South African Journal of Communication Theory and Research 36(­3), 2010: ­343–​­58. Shai, Kgothatso S., and Mbay Vunza, “­Gender Mainstreaming in Peacebuilding and Localised Human Security in the Context of the Darfur Genocide: An Africentric Rhetorical Analysis,” Journal of Literary Studies 37(­2), 2021: ­69–​­84. Sherr, Michael E., “­The Afrocentric Paradigm a Pragmatic Discourse About Social Work Practice with African Americans,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 13(­3), 2006: ­1–​­17. Shockley, Kmt G., “­Literatures and Definitions: Toward Understanding Africentric Education,” Journal of Negro Education 76(­2), (­Spring 2007): ­103–​­17. Shockley, Kmt G., and Rona Frederick, “­Constructs and Dimensions of Afrocentric Education,” Journal of Black Studies 40(­6), 2008: ­1212–​­33. ­Stepteau-​­Watson, Desiree, Jerry Watson, and Shonda K. Lawrence, “­Young African American Males in Reentry: An Afrocentric Cultural Approach,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 24(­6), 2014: ­658–​­65. Stikkers, Kenneth W., “­A n Outline of Methodological Afrocentrism, with Particular Application to the Thought of W.E.B. DuBois,” Journal of Speculative Philosophy 22(­1), 2008: ­40–​­49. ­Strother-​­Jordan, Karen, “­On the Rhetoric of Afrocentricity,” Western Journal of Black Studies 26, Winter 2002: ­193–​­203. Teasley, Martell, “­Cultural Wars and the Attack on Multiculturalism: An Afrocentric Critique,” Journal of Black Studies 37, 2007: ­390–​­409. Thompson, Vetta L. Sanders, and Michell A. Myers, “­A fricentricity: An Analysis of Two Culture Specific Instruments,” Western Journal of Black Studies 18(­4), 1994: ­179–​­84. Torain, Martin, “­The Role of Terror in the Birth of European Consciousness and Its Implications for Afrocentric Historical Interpretation,” Imhotep: An Afrocentric Review 1(­1), 1989: ­75–​­81. Verharen, Charles C., “­A frocentricity, Ecocentrism, and Ecofeminism: New Alliances for Socialism,” Socialism and Democracy 17(­2), 2003: ­73–​­90. Verharen, Charles C., “­Molefi Asante and an Afrocentric Curriculum,” Western Journal of Black Studies 24(­4), 2000: ­223–​­38. Wang, ­Mei-​­Chuan, et al., “­Reasons for Living, Social Support, and Afrocentric Worldview: Assessing Buffering Factors Related to Black Americans’ Suicidal Behavior,” Archives of Suicide Research 17(­2), 2013: ­136–​­47. ­Warfield-​­Coppock, Nsenga, “­Toward a Theory of Afrocentric Organizations,” Journal of Black Psychology 21(­1), 1995: ­30–​­48. Watanabe, Nancy Ann, “­Out of Time’s Afrocentric Subtext: Carl Franklin’s Postfeminist Technoscientific Adaptation of Sophocles’s King Oedipus,” Quarterly Review of Film and Video 37(­8), 2020: ­731–​­54. Watkins, Ralph, “­From Black Theology and Black Power to Afrocentric Theology and ­H ip-​­Hop Power: An Extension and ­Socio-­​­­re-​­theological Conceptualization of Cone’s Theology in Conversation with the Hip Hop Generation,” Black Theology 8(­3), 2015: ­327–​­40.

196  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

Whitehead, Minnie M., “­Applying Afrocentric Theory to Mezzo Practice with ­A frican–​ ­A mericans,” Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment 28(­2), 2018: ­125–​­41. Williams, Carmen Braun, “­A frican American Women, Afrocentrism and Feminism: Implications for Therapy,” Women & Therapy 22(­4), 2000: ­1–​­16. Williams, Kesha Morant, “­Centering Mindfulness in an Afrocentric Worldview: African American Women, Social Support and Health When Creating Culturally Relevant Mindfulness Techniques Connected to African American Families,” Western Journal of Communication 86(­2), 2022: ­250–​­58. Winters, Clyde Ahmad, “­A frocentrism: A Valid Frame of Reference,” Journal of Black Studies 25(­2), 1994: ­170–​­90. Winters, Clyde Ahmad, “­The Afrocentric Historical and Linguistic Methods,” Western Journal of Black Studies 22(­2), 1998: ­73–​­83. ­Wynter-​­Hoyte, Kamania, Susi Long, Jennipher Frazier, and Jarvais Jackson, “­Liberatory Praxis in Preservice Teacher Education: Claiming Afrocentricity as Foundational in Critical Language and Literacy Teaching,” International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education 2020: ­1–​­22. Yamauchi, Edwin, “­A frocentric Biblical Interpretation,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 39(­3), 1996: ­397–​­409. Zulu, Itibari M., “­ A fricology101: An Interview with Scholar Activist Molefi Kete Asante,” The Journal of Pan African Studies 2(­2), 2008: ­79–​­84.

Part IV: Dissertations and Thesis Akua, Chike, “­The Life of a Policy: An Afrocentric Case Study Policy Analysis of Florida Statute,” PhD Thesis, Georgia State University, 2017. Allen, Troy D., “­A ncient Egyptian Kinship,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1998. Amatokwu, Buashie., “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of ­H ip-​­Hop Musical Art Composition and Production: Roles, Themes, Techniques, and Contexts,” Ph.D. Thesis, Temple University, 2009. Appiagyei, Akua., “­The Manifestation of the ­A frican-​­Centered Educational Philosophy in the Pedagogical Practices of an Elementary Education Science Teacher,” Ed.D. Thesis, Georgia State University, 2019. Archie, Marlene Marie, “­The Centered School: An Afrocentric Developmental Project for Urban Schools,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1997. Austin Colter, Asia V., “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of Leadership in Three Alternative Education Schools in Philadelphia,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2007. Bankole, Katherine Kemi, “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of Enslavement and Medicine in the Southeastern Parishes of Antebellum Louisiana,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1996. Bohler, Eva, “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of the Philosophies of Howard Thurman,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2021. Brooks, Zachary D., “­Optimizing the Functional Utility of Afrocentric Intellectual Production: The Significance of Systemic Race Consciousness & Necessity of a Separatist Epistemological Standpoint,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2018. The Resocialization of ­ A frican-​­ American Male Youth through Brown, Lance A., “­ ­A frocentric-​­based Rites of Passage Programming: The Need for Adequate and Accurate Assessment,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2000. ­Cannon-​­Brown, Willie, “­Aesthetic Ideal in Kemet: An Afrocentric Examination,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2005.

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  197

Conyers, James, “­A n Afrocentric Study of the Philosophy of Edward Wilmot Blyden,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1998. Dent, Randl B., “­The Role of Afrocentric Features in Mental Healthcare Utilization and Counselor Preferences in Black College Students,” MS Thesis, Virginia Commonwealth University, 2017. Dorman, Dereic Angelo, “­A n Afrocentric Critique of Race Dialogues: An Application of Theory and Praxis in Africology,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2018. Elvi, Zetla K., “­Economic Development Initiatives in the African American Community: An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1999. Faggins, Barbara, “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of Contacts between Africans and First Americans in Colonial Virginia,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2001. Forbes, Ella, “­But We Have No Country: An Afrocentric Study of the 1851 Christiana Resistance,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1991. Giddings, Geoffrey Jahwara, “­A frican American ­Functional-​­cultural Philosophy: Assessing Kawaida, Black Psychology and Afrocentricity,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2000. Gray, Cecil Conteen, “­From Incipient Afrocentric Thought and Praxis Intellectual History,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1995. Green, Debra D., “­A fricanity among African Mexicans: An Afrocentric Study of Identity Formation in a Mexican Community,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2007. Harris, Christina Afia, “­Digital ­Pan-​­Africanism for Liberation: An Afrocentric Analysis of Contemporary Travel Discourses by African Americans Visiting Modern Egypt,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2019. Harris, Stephanie Nichole James, “­The Politics of Teaching History: Afrocentricity as a Modality for the New Jersey Amistad L ­ aw—​­the Pedagogies of Location, Agency, and Voice in Praxis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2017. Harrison, Valerie Irene, “­The Racial Significance of Pennsylvania’s K ­ -​­12 Public Education Funding Scheme: An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2015. Hicks, Ivan Douglas, “­Centering African American Religion: Toward an Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2003. Hollowell, Deonte Jamar, “­Control and Resistance: An Afrocentric Analysis of the Historical and Current Relationship between African Americans and the Police,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2008. Holmes, Carolyn Louis, “­New Visions of a Liberated Future: Afrocentric Paradigms, Literature, and a Curriculum for Survival and Beyond,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1993. Hubbard, LaRese Charmell, “­A n Afrocentric Study of the Intellectual Thought of Anna Julia Cooper,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2005. Hyman, Mark, “­A frocentric Learnings of Black Church Owned Newspapers from ­M id-​ ­Nineteenth Century to Word War I,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1992. Ikambana, Peta, “­Mobutu’s Totalitarian Political System: An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2004. Imoka, Chizoba Mary, “­The Case for an African Centered Education System in Africa: A Case Study on African Leadership Academy, South Africa.,” M.Ed. Thesis, University of Toronto, 2014. Jackson, Stacey Marie Antoinette, “­­African-​­centered Psychology within Black Studies: A Call for the Centrality of ­A frican-​­centered Psychology within the Field of Black Studies,” MA Thesis, University of Texas Austin, 2013.

198  Adebayo Oyebade and Sekhmet Ra Em Kht Maat

King, Leophus S., “­Philomythy: Afrocentric Analysis of the Plausible Kemetic Influences on and Resonated Kemetic Retentions in Greek Creation Stories,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2005. Kirby, Jimmy, “­A Critical Afrocentric Reading of the Artist’s Responsibility in the Creative Process,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2020. Lipscomb, Trey, “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of W. E. B. Du Bois’ the World and Africa,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2021. Loury, Doreen Estella, “­Through Their Eyes: An Afrocentric Ethnography of African American Single Fathers,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1997. Luke, Donnie L., “­A frocentric Methods and the Retrieval of an Obscured African History: A Reexamination of Old Norse Sagas,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1993. Marshall, Barbara J., “­M irroring Isis: An Afrocentric Analysis of the Works of Selected ­A frican-​­American Female Writers,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1993. McCabe, C. Wilbert, “­A frican American Sacred Music: An Afrocentric Historical Narrative,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2008. McDougal, Serie, “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of Teacher/­Student Style Congruency and High School Black Male Achievement Levels,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2007. Monges, Miriam Ma’­at-­​­­Ka-​­Re, “­Kush: An Afrocentric Perspective,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1995. ­Monteiro-​­Ferreira, Ana Maria, “­A frocentricity and Westernity: A Critical Dialogue in Search of the Demise of the Inhuman,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2010. Moses, Raven M., “­Teaching in Afrocentric Schools: An Exploratory Study of Administrators’ Views on Defining, Assessing and Developing Afrocentric Teaching Competence,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2015. Newman, Vivian M., “­Conservative Theory vs. Empirical Reality an Afrocentric Critique of Conservative Economics,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1999. Nuamah, Kwabena Ameyaw, “­Individual and Community Healing: An Afrocentric Study of the “­Apoo” Festival of Wenchi, Ghana,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2001. Nwadiora, Chika, “­A frican Women Immigrants in the United States: An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2007. Okafor, Victor Oguejiofor, “­L eadership and Political Integration in Africa: An Afrocentric Case Study of Nigeria,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1994. Paige, Garrison Danielle, “­We are What We Speak: An Afrocentric Analysis of the Manifestation and Impact of Agency Reducing Identities Found on Instagram,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2020. ­Pimienta-​­Bey, José V., “­Some “­Myths” of the Moorish Science Temple: An Afrocentric Historical Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1995. A frocentric Kinesiology: Innovators and Early Adopters in a Pittman, Beverly D., “­ Diffusion of Innovations Model,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2001. Poe, Daryl Zizwe, “­Kwame Nkrumah’s Contribution to ­Pan-​­African Agency: An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2000. Rashid, Kamau, “­On Education and Social Power: The Educational Theories of W.E.B. Du Bois and Their Relevance to ­A frican-​­Centered Education,” Ph.D. Thesis, University of Illinois, 2009. Reed, Pamela Denise, “­Composite Conjugality Considered: An Afrocentric Study of the Faces of S­ o-​­called Polygamy in the African Novel,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2001. Rief, Michelle M., ““­Banded Close Together”: An Afrocentric Study of African American Women’s International Activism, ­1850–​­1940, and the International Council of Women of the Darker Races,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2003.

Afrocentricity and Africana Studies  199

Robertson, Clyde C., “­Unsung Hero: The Afrocentric Location of Alexander Pierre Tureaud,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1998. Rogers, Ibram H., “­The Black Campus Movement: An Afrocentric Narrative History of the Struggle to Diversify Higher Education, ­1965–​­1972,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2010. Sams, Timothy Edward, “­Reinforcing the Afrocentric Paradigm: A Theoretical Project,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2010. Scott, Mikana S., “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of Scholarly Literature on the Cayman Islands: Location Theory in a Caribbean Context,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2014. Shabaka, Segun, “­ A n Afrocentric Analysis of the 19th Century ­ A frican-​­ American Migration to Haiti: A Quest for the ­Self-​­determining Community,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2001. Smith, Aaron X., “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of the Oratory of President Barack Obama,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2015. StHilaire, Wilber, “­A n Afrocentric R ­ e-​­examination of the Historiography around the Afrikan Revolution in Ayiti,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2021. ­Thomas-​­Holder, Susan Alexis, “­Henry Highland Garnet: His Life, Times and an Afrocentric Analysis of His Writings,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1994. Traoré, Rosemary Lukens, “­Implementing Afrocentricity: A Case Study of African and African American Students in an Urban High School in America,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2002. Trott, Wendy Carmen, “­A n Afrocentric Analysis of the Transition and Transformation of African Medicine (­Root Medicine) as Spiritual Practice among Gullah People of Lowcountry South Carolina,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2003. Van Dyk, Sandra, “­Molefi Kete Asante’s Theory of Afrocentricity: The Development of a Theory of Cultural Location,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1998. Walker, Ina, “­­African-​­centered Education: An Afrocentric Analysis of Its Purpose, Principles and Practices in an Independent Black Institution,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2001. Walker, Tshombe R., “­The Hip Hop Worldview: An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1998. Wilson. Aaron J., “­Makuneferu, the Truly Beautiful and Effective: An Afrocentric Study of Select 20th Century African “­­Creative-​­intellectuals” toward an Afrocentric Portrait and Paradigm of Creative Thought and Ideal Creative Practice,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2005. Wonkeryor, Edward Lama, “­The Effects of United States’ Political Communication and the Liberian Experience (­­1960–​­1990): An Afrocentric Analysis,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1995. Woodyard, Jeffrey Lynn, “­A fricalogical Rhetorical Theory and Criticism: Afrocentric Approaches to the Rhetoric of Malcolm X,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 1996. Wright, Donela C., “­The Home as Refuge: Locating Homeplace Theory Within the Afrocentric Paradigm,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2016. Yehudah, Miciah Z., “­Seizing the Power to Define!” Afrocentric Inquiry and the African Hebrew Israelites of Jerusalem,” PhD Thesis, Temple University, 2014.

PART 3

Gender, Popular Culture, and Literary Spaces

12 RETURNING, SEEKING, AND OFFERING Sankofa and Black Feminist History, ­­1979–​­​­​­2019 K.T. Ewing

Introduction When the Association of Black Women Historians (­­ ABWH) was officially launched in New York, it entered into a disciplinary and political landscape hostile to Black women’s experiences and dismissive of Black women’s histories. Now in its fortieth year, ABWH boasts a large membership of Black women with or working toward a doctoral degree in the field of history working in a range of capacities, particularly academic ones. Moreover, as a reflection of the interdisciplinary nature of Black Studies, ABWH includes scholars with a range of academic backgrounds and illustrates the change in the fields of history writ large as well as Black history, women’s history, and queer history that have occurred as a result of its efforts over the years. Organizations like ABWH form the architecture of Black feminist histories across time, space, and institutions. Shortly after its 2018 meeting in Los Angeles, one of the key founders of the organization, Rosalyn ­­Terborg-​­​­​­Penn, a woman who had dedicated her life and scholarship to uncovering and centering histories of marginalized women, transitioned. In an auditorium filled with her scholarly peers and younger academics who represented her legacy, she had shared a few poignant words and warm hugs with people who had gathered to celebrate ABWH’s achievements and showcase its future. Her passing was devastating for many ABWH members and conference goers, and it is in the spirit of recollection of her impact and that of women like her that this essay is written. Herein, I reflect on the women who built a solid foundation of research on the lives of Black women through research, organizations, curricula, mentorship, and institutionalization, and in doing so, I demonstrate how they enriched and transformed the discipline of Black History since the late 1970s.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-16

204  K.T. Ewing

Notions of Sankofa, generally translated from the Akan Twi dialect as “­­it is not taboo to go back and fetch what you have forgotten” or “­­go back and get it,” are a central and guiding raison d’être for Black Studies, by which I mean the interdisciplinary field of Black Studies across the Diaspora as well as the Black interventions in various disciplines, including history, that go back and retrieve Black stories and experiences. Far from being an intentional or coincidental forgetting, Black Studies scholars have demonstrated how captive Africans and their enslaved descendants were forcibly distanced from their pasts and thrust into a violent, historical amnesia. Unfortunately, as Black scholars, particularly men in academia, set about the task of reclaiming a heroic African past, they often left their sisters behind or only included them as props on the landscape of Black male redemption narratives. In many ways, the late 1970s and early 1980s inaugurated a Sankofa moment for Black scholars, particularly women. Multiply marginalized in the academy on the basis of race, sex, and sometimes sexual orientation and/­­or gender identity, they labored to carve a place for themselves in the scholarship that recognized the necessity of bringing silenced voices from the margins to the center.1 Though the Black Power Movement and Second Wave Feminism made great strides toward diversifying academia, the inclusion of underrepresented scholars was mostly piecemeal and symbolic. Black scholars, women, and those who resided at the intersections of both identities often found themselves tokenized in departments unwilling to address more than the surface issues of diversity and completely unwilling to move toward true inclusion. As they looked to their historical and intellectual foremothers for answers about how to correct misconceptions about the past and confront the present, they forced their respective departments to contend with intersectionality as a theory and lived reality. Though these battles initially ended in defeat or stalemate, Black women successfully won the inclusion of more classes dedicated to studying Black women’s lives, hiring more Black and women of color to the faculty ranks, and adequately funding Black and Women’s Studies programs.2 The 1980s ushered in an important shift in the discipline of history, particularly in relation to Black Studies and Women’s Studies. Owing in large part to gains made during the Black Freedom Struggle and Second Wave Feminism, a new generation of Black women scholars made their mark upon a field that has been dominated by white male scholarship. Moving beyond the idea of merely adding Black women’s narratives in a piecemeal fashion, these scholars successfully argued for studying Black women’s histories as worthy subjects in their own rights as opposed to focusing on how their histories enhanced the narratives of women, Black men, and mainstream society. By arguing for their inherent worth as historymakers and subjects of study, Black women historians placed narratives of Black women’s lives at the center of their historical inquiries and transformed the trajectory of the field. Black women historians are leading the charge to publish inclusive histories of Black communities that are grounded in explicitly feminist and antiracist frameworks. In keeping with the principle of Sankofa, this

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  205

essay will examine the last half-​­​­​­ ­­ century of Black feminist scholarship and reassert the importance of committing to an intersectional approach to Black history that confronts the looming challenges of this era. As a result of the efforts of Black women, academia has expanded to openly acknowledge the presence and important contributions of Black women, queer communities, disabled people, and people who reside in these intersections. In fact, the language of intersectionality, arising from Black feminist theorizing, illuminates a framework for revealing the longstanding presence of their communities and makes room for more inclusive analyses. When Paula Giddings wrote about Black women’s “­­complex task” in the early 1980s, she could sense but not entirely predict the myriad ways that a serious focus on intersectionality would transform the national discourse on Black womanhood. The twenty-​­​­​­ ­­ first century alone has witnessed the Black Lives Matter movement, showcasing the work of queer Black women organizers and activists, an increased attention to Black women’s voting patterns, the viable though sabotaged gubernatorial candidacy of Stacy Abrams, and former First Lady Michelle Obama as the new mainstream face of feminism. Giddings did, however, foresee that this century would bring forth similar tensions of the prior generation unless people gave serious consideration to the history and significance of Black women’s contributions to the nation’s evolution and to the field of history. Black women, like Barbara Christian in “­­The Race for Theory,” also recognized that Black women’s knowledge was being produced in a range of spaces, and this extended to historical knowledge as well.3 In this vein, a number of Black women intellectuals who may not necessarily be trained formally as historians or who may not work in so-​­​­​­ ­­ called formal capacities in the field are now part of the Black feminist historical canon.4 In the four decades since Black women began integrating history departments and playing integral roles in the creation of Africana Studies and Women’s Studies departments, their work has demonstrated a commitment to addressing issues of representation as well as historical accuracy via telling better histories that are inclusive of marginalized voices. These scholars improved the respective fields of Black history and Black Studies, thereby improving the discipline of history overall, by bringing essential gender analyses into the field that had been missing from existing histories of the experience of Black Americans in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In doing so, they have challenged academia to acknowledge the “­­everyday practices of refusal, resistance, and contestation” that characterizes Black women’s lives in the Diaspora.5 Black women have answered their foremothers’ call by showing when, where, and how we should enter and bringing the fullness of Black communities with us. The success of their efforts in the twenty-​­​­​­ ­­ first century is attributed in part to an ability to create new digital spaces to democratize access to these valuable histories while simultaneously imagining Afrofutures. These futures, although a necessary departure, are not divorced from an inclusive Black past. Rather, the Black feminist journey has been one of discovering and rendering these pasts

206  K.T. Ewing

legible. What follows is a brief overview of how Black women scholars have recovered and reinterpreted slave narratives, challenged Second Wave Feminist historiographies of the movement, and moved intersectionality from the margin to the center of academic discourse.

Ar’n’t I a Woman? In the 1980s, continuing in the tradition of the Black Freedom Struggle of the previous decades, Black women first went back to uncover Black women’s histories of enslavement. These stories had largely been told through the lens of men, with a focus on broken Black (­­patriarchal) families and how the rape of Black women emasculated Black men. This approach ignored the range of other issues that Black women navigated during enslavement and left them as seeming props on the battlefield of Black men’s struggle to reclaim the fullness of their manhood and thereby assume their rightful place as patriarchs and equal competitors with white men. Failing to see themselves roundly represented in texts such as John Blassingame’s The Slave Community: Plantation Life in the Antebellum South and Eugene Genovese’s Roll Jordan Roll: The World the Slaves Made, Black women answered with Deborah Gray White’s Ar’n’t I a Woman: Female Slaves in the Plantation South. This seminal text opened the door for Darlene Clark Hine’s Hine Sight: Black Women and the ­­Re-​­​­​­Construction of America, Nell Painter’s Sojourner Truth: A Life, A Symbol, Stephanie Camp’s Closer to Freedom: Enslaved Women and Everyday Resistance in the Plantation South, Erica Armstrong Dunbar’s Never Caught: The Washingtons’ Relentless Pursuit of Their Runaway Slave, Ona Judge, and many others. Once scholars turned their attention to the significance of Black women’s contributions to history, the field grew richer and deeper. Although African American women were highly visible on ­­ nineteenth-​­​­​ c­ entury plantations, they remained curiously absent from prevailing literature in the twentieth century. Ar’n’t I a Woman? is White’s contribution to the literature on slavery that brings the lives of its most invisible members to the forefront. She examines the social construction of race as it intersects with gender in a series of interlocking oppressive stages. Instead of using one to substitute for the other, she places Black women at the heart of the antebellum slavery narrative. She accomplishes this by paying closer attention to women’s experiences in courtship, pregnancy, childbirth, and marriage. In this text, White asks whether the Victorian ideal appealed to enslaved women, since their condition gave lie to its ­­ rendering of womanhood. In pursuing how they fashioned their ideas of self-​­​­​ ­esteem, White challenges the accepted terms of women’s history that emphasized women’s relationship to Victorian ideals. She investigates the enduring Jezebel and Mammy stereotypes as counterpoints to society’s Victorian ideals that did not extend themselves to Black women. A key argument in Ar’n’t I a Woman? is that Black women and Black men experienced enslavement differently.6 This is a direct attack on prior scholarship’s tendency to use men’s experiences as universal and axiomatic. Originally

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  207

published in 1985, the preface to the second addition brings important changes to how White interprets the relationship between enslaved women and white women. For example, she notes that she would no longer assert that “­­slave women’s condition was just an extreme case of what women as a group experienced in America.” 7 Indeed, she recognizes that the intersection of race and gender functioned differently in the lives of enslaved African American women. With this foundation firmly established, Thavolia Glymph’s Out of the House of Bondage: The Transformation of the Plantation Household examines how Black and white women negotiated the terms of autonomy and freedom in plantation society. Partly because of the many dangers outside their homes, Black Americans placed special emphasis on home as a physical and emotional space. Glymph’s blurring of the distinction between notions of public and private allows for a more nuanced understanding of the personal having political stakes, particularly in the lives of enslaved and newly emancipated Black women. In her particular examples, this research consciously deconstructs the public/­­private dichotomy in order to analyze the public performance of domestic service. Likewise, Stephanie E. ­­Jones-​­​­​­Rogers’s They Were Her Property: White Women as Slave Owners in the American South, published in 2019, extends White’s thesis and builds upon the work of other scholars who examined the faulty assumption of gendered kinship across racial lines. In particular, her analysis of white women’s understanding and engagement of Black women as economic capital successfully challenges any idea of genuine sisterhood between enslaved Black women and the white women who bought and sold them. In these examples, the axis of gender and race in the performances of Black womanhood factor highly in Black women scholars’ attempts to uncover and analyses of Black women’s histories and their importance to the discipline. White, Glymph, and ­­Jones-​­​­​­Rogers encountered the usual problem of available source material. Rather than allow the relative lack of these sources derail the research, they lean heavily on the accounts that do exist and also search for traces of the women in the words of others. They also became experts in reading against the grain and discovering figurative ghosts in the archive. This constitutes a reinterpretation of behaviors misjudged by their contemporaries and those who studied them. A further complication of their research is the tendency of African American women to dissemble, this rendering their inner thoughts more inaccessible. Darlene Clarke Hine famously coined the term “­­culture of dissemblance” to denote this aspect of African American women’s lives.8 Black women, in the process of their Sankofa journey, have illuminated the afterlives of slavery and invited academia to fully contend with its vestiges.9 By bringing neglected women and sources to light, they transformed the trajectory of an entire field and ensured that no serious scholarship on the history of enslavement could continue to ignore Black women’s presence as integral as opposed to peripheral. In the past forty years, histories of captivity and enslavement have shifted to attend to the ways Black women exhibited agency, even in the midst of being acted upon, and thereby shaped the contours of Trans-​­​­​ ­­

208  K.T. Ewing

­ tlantic slavery and the transition to modernity. An awareness of the afterlives A of slavery serves as more evidence that enslavement itself had not been fully confronted. Black women scholars brought their foremothers from margin to center by unearthing, engaging, and analyzing the archives in novel ways. This process ultimately caused a recalibration of histories of their roles in subsequent eras, particularly the modern Civil Rights Movement.

All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men As they continued challenging ­­long-​­​­​­accepted ideas about slavery, Black women scholars also complicated traditional, androcentric narratives of the modern Civil Rights Movement. An emphasis on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Stokely Carmichael (­­Kwame Ture), and Malcolm X eventually made room for Diane Nash, Fannie Lou Hamer, and the grassroots efforts of women in community organizations. Gloria Hull, Patricia Bell Scott, and Barbara Smith articulated the double jeopardy Black women faced and charted a path forward in All the Women are White, All the Blacks Are Men, But Some of Us Are Brave: Black Women’s Studies. As veterans of the Black Freedom Struggle and Second Wave Feminism, they understood the sting of marginalization in academia and dedicated a volume of scholarship to illuminating the key issues of Black women. They noted: we have been kept separated in every way possible from recognized intellectual work. Our legacy as chattel, as sexual slaves as well as forced laborers, would adequately explain why most Black women are, to this day, far away from the centers of academic power and why Black women’s studies has just begun to surface in the latter part of the 1970s.10 In order for this shift to take place, Black women scholars carefully uncovered the journey from emancipation to the early Jim Crow period via works such as Sharon Harley and Rosalyn ­­Terborg-​­​­​­Penn’s The ­­Afro-​­​­​­American Woman: Struggles & Images, Hine’s “­­Rape and the Inner Lives of Black Women in the Middle West: Preliminary Thoughts on the Culture of Dissemblance,” Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham’s Righteous Discontent: The Women’s Movement in the Black Baptist Church, ­­1880–​­​­​­1920, and Deborah Gray White’s Too Heavy a Load: Black Women in Defense of Themselves, ­­1894–​­​­​­1994. These writings not only firmly announced the arrival of Black women’s history as a legitimate subfield, they challenged the entire discipline to revisit how it approaches mainstream histories as well. Darlene Clark Hine, as one of the founders of Black Women’s History, has produced a sizable body of literature that no historiography can afford to omit. This collection of work is so influential that she compiled a volume of her own work and playfully entitled it Hine Sight: Black Women and the ­­Re-​­​­​­Construction of American History. In an attempt to recover African American women from the margins of the historical record, Hine offered the idea of doing “­­crossover history” to see what historians can learn from the intersection of Black and white

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  209

women’s history. This produced a critical juncture of analysis that reveals the interlocking dynamics of race, class, and gender as experienced by women. For example, the ever-​­​­​­ ­­ present threat of sexual violence was a strong motivator for Black women to guard their privacy. Hine argues that the culture of dissemblance was “­­the behavior and attitudes of black women that created the appearance of openness and disclosure but actually shield the truth of their inner lives and selves from their oppressors.”11 She cautions that the culture of dissemblance is only one means of assessing how African American women confronted the problem of assaults upon their womanhood. While downplaying their sexuality often served to afford them a measure of protection and respect, it also came with the added cost of restricting some avenues of self-​­​­​­ ­­ expression. As Hine and others have noted, not all women were willing to accept any restriction of their possibilities. Still, during the most volatile periods of the ­­nineteenth-​­​­​­century, dissembling remained a valuable means of protecting Black women’s inner lives. Arguably one of the most misapplied theories of Black life in the ­­twenty-​­​­​­first century is Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham’s politics of respectability. The term emerges in her foundational text Righteous Discontent: The Women’s Movement in the Black Baptist Church, ­­1880–​­​­​­1902, in which she argues for a more central place for women in the narrative of the Black church. Although, like mainstream religious institutions, mostly men held leadership positions, Higginbotham demonstrates that women have historically provided much of the organizing and momentum necessary to drive its programs. As Black Americans sustained political and social losses after Reconstruction, they turned increasingly to their homegrown institutions to provide for their needs. Women were integral to the daily functioning of many of these organizations, particularly the community churches. By highlighting the activities of women in these community spaces, Righteous Discontent expands the narrative of both the Black church and Black women’s activism. Higginbotham also gave life to our understanding of the metalanguage of race. When she explained how race, as an idea and embodied experience, “­­tends to subsume other sets of social relations, namely gender and class,” she reframes Anna Julia Cooper’s early Black feminist theory to more explicitly attend to the intersections.12 In many online discussions, the politics of respectability has been distilled or outright distorted to imply merely a strict adherence to white norms as a mythical protection against white supremacy as opposed to how generations of Black people understood ­­it—​­​­​­one of many tactics for moving toward Black liberation. Just as few during Dr. King and the Rev. Malcolm X’s heyday believed that there could only be one pathway to freedom, those who adhered to the politics of respectability during the period of Higginbotham’s study did not think that respectability made them or anyone bulletproof. What they sought was a means of advancement. Unfortunately, this advancement could only free those who believed in a path that rested heavily on ­­anti-​­​­​­Black ideas, and this relative freedom was always contingent upon the whims of white supremacy. Like their forbearers in the Jim Crow era, Black activists in the twenty-​­​­​­ ­­ first century would also

210  K.T. Ewing

vehemently reject the implicitly racist underpinnings of respectability as they experimented with new technologies to dismantle white supremacy. Crystal N. Feimster’s Southern Horrors: Women and the Politics of Rape and Lynching also examines the connection between the threat of sexual violence and women’s political activism. She engages the idea of intersectionality via a focus on Ida B. Wells and Rebecca Felton, two women whose lives represent two very different ideas about the nature of race and womanhood. Southern Horrors reveals how women at the end of the nineteenth century fashioned a political space for women to advance their causes with an awareness of how race and gender circumscribed their lives. Felton, a white woman, serves as an example of how privileged white women were emotionally unable to acknowledge white male abuse of enslaved women because their lives depended on white supremacist patriarch. Wells, however, had no such protection, and serves as a useful counterpoint to Felton in this text. Whereas Felton’s critique of white men resided in their inability to protect white women during the collapse of plantation slavery, Wells’s criticism rested sharply on the abuses of Black women by white men during and after slavery. Having clearly established the multiple jeopardy faced by Black women as a result of race and gender, Black feminist scholars would again have to make the case that their identities are inextricably linked and not merely overlapping.13 Sharing the mantle of academic leadership with their established sister scholars, a new generation of Black women would refine the idea of experiencing discrimination as an axis of oppression and offer new terminology and hypotheses for an old problem. This new language is best represented by the term intersectionality.

“­­We saw no reason to rank oppressions” Black women understood since enslavement that their status as chattel and woman and later as Black and woman meant they were subject to specific kinds of tools of oppression that exploited their labor, sex, and capacity for childbearing while also rendering them vulnerable to rape and lynching. Yet, they also deeply understood how systems of oppression worked to disadvantage all women and all Black people and all poor people, endeavoring to appeal to and build coalitions across experiences of oppression. Their efforts, however, were often rebuffed. White slave-​­​­​­ ­­ owning women showed little interest in the plight of enslaved women as fellow women. After slavery, white women lobbied both against Black women’s suffrage and Black men’s suffrage, even though Black women were diligent organizers in the women’s suffrage and Black suffrage movements. For their part, some Black men, believing themselves the race’s more aggrieved gender, asserted that they should be entitled to suffrage first. But Black women knew that oppression did not function in hierarchies, nor could hierarchies be effectively organized against as long as one group felt more aggrieved. Black women looked toward systemic analyses of oppression, determining that patriarchy, racism, sexism, and capitalism worked together to

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  211

produce different experiences of oppression and that all oppression should be eliminated. When the Combahee River Collective proclaimed that they saw no need to rank oppressions, they were attesting to this reality. They were, in some ways, foreshadowing the scholarship that would uncover what enslaved women knew about how oppression worked, and, in particular, in their analyses of capital. Black women endeavored to hold the line in the Communist Party against reducing all oppression to class oppression (­­which would rank class oppression higher than and as the causal factor for other forms of oppression) and insisting on understanding the multiple and varied ways interlocking systems of oppression affected people differently based on their location in what sociologist Patricia Hill Collins called the matrix of domination.14 The women of Combahee did not consider interlocking oppressions as a phenomenon exclusive to Black women. They situated it as a starting point through which other women of color could also be liberated. The statement summarized their hypothesis as follows: The most general statement of our politics at the present time would be that we are actively committed to struggling against racial, sexual, heterosexual, and class oppression, and see as our particular task the development of integrated analysis and practice based upon the fact that the major systems of oppression are interlocking. The synthesis of these oppressions creates the conditions of our lives. As Black women we see Black feminism as the logical political movement to combat the manifold and simultaneous oppression that all women of color face.15 Though it has far-​­​­​­ ­­ reaching implications, it is important to read it as a Sankofa moment of reaching back to the words of Anna Julia Cooper’s A Voice from the South over a century earlier. Before the terminology existed, Black women were theorizing about what was necessary to liberate not only Black women, but all oppressed people as well. The tendency to lift as they climbed, to borrow a phrase from the National Association of Colored Women’s Clubs, was a means of freeing themselves first and thereby creating a more just society for all. When legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw coined the term intersectionality in the early 1990s, she offered a theoretical framework for the knowledge produced by Black women scholars in the late 1970s and 1980s.16 By providing one word to encapsulate the conundrum of not only Black womanhood but other multiply oppressed identities, Crenshaw immeasurably catapulted the field of Black Studies forward. Though the term is often misused in popular discourse, it provides a window into understanding how Black women have been rendered invisible in the academic study of women’s history and Black history. The Black Power Movement’s salience in Black history makes it fertile ground for using intersectionality to bring balance and nuance to the seemingly unyielding patriarchal focus in popular culture. Ashley D. Farmer’s Remaking Black Power: How Black Women Transformed an Era does the valuable work of mining

212  K.T. Ewing

Black women’s concepts of Black womanhood as they struggled alongside men to make their worlds anew in the middle of the twentieth century. Farmer explains that “[t]easing out the nuances of their emancipatory visions helps us move past patriarchal, individualistic histories of black struggle that rely on singular, sanitized visions of Black Power.”17 Remaking Black Power reveals how Black women, who were on the frontlines of the Black Power Movement, were sidelined in its histories. Farmer’s scholarship answers Angela Davis’s call to restore Black women domestic workers, artists, international travelers, and others to their rightful place in the Black Freedom Struggle’s history. It also serves as a strong companion piece to Keisha N. Blain and Tiffany M. Gill’s edited text To Turn the Whole World Over: Black Women and Internationalism as another exploration of Black women’s political activism at home and abroad. The post-​­​­​­ ­­ Civil Rights era was the first time that the historymakers were also writing and producing scholarship that had an influence on the contemporary movements of their day, particularly the Black Power and Women’s Rights movements. They successfully integrated academia and created avenues such that by the 1990s, the works of Angela Davis and her Black feminist peers could be read in classrooms and Black women’s collectives across the world. For example, But Some of Us Are Brave made space for Words of Fire: An Anthology of African American Feminist Thought, which, in turn, cleared a path for The Crunk Feminist Collection. These critical anthologies are part of a tradition of institutionalizing and disseminating Black women’s voices in Black history, Black Studies, and Women’s Studies in ways that transformed how the academy and everyday women think about history.

“­­We fem the future” or Black Feminist Histories Go Digital In 2018, Janelle Monáe released the emotion picture Dirty Computer, a work that incorporates Afrofuturism, gender as performance, sexuality, and overarching state power. The short film’s stunning visuals situate the android protagonist’s memory as a literal and subversive archive. As a Black feminist critique of harmful state intervention into the lives of marginalized people, Dirty Computer is a cultural product that analyzes alternative histories and presents, in addition to positing alternative futures where Black women’s knowledge is canon, making itself as opposed to needing incorporation into an existing canon. For example, when Jane, the defiant android, proclaims, “­­We gave you life, we gave you birth/­­We gave you God, we gave you Earth/­­We fem the future, don’t make it worse/­­You want the world? Well, what’s it worth?” she offers a version of the past and future rooted in oppressed beings and inextricably tied to their ­­well-​­​­​ ­being.18 A longer examination of her discography shows that Monáe engages in musical Sankofa as she reaches back to incorporate the stylings of Erykah Badu, Chaka Khan, and Dorothy Dandridge, to name a few. Monáe’s interest in digital pasts and futures has a counterpart in how younger generations, including scholars, are wielding new technologies.

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  213

As institutional and government archives have increasingly become accessible online, Sankofa has also moved into the digital realm. The rise and popularity of social media sites, particularly Twitter, often serves as a site of discourse regarding Black womanhood. There is no hardened line between those who use social media for scholarship and those who reside primarily in the academy. These are porous borders. In the age of social media, democratized spaces allow for independent scholars to more easily influence historical discourse. However, a lack of institutional affiliation leaves them more vulnerable to plagiarism and erasure. Created by Christen A. Smith in 2017, Cite Black Women and its social media presence, particularly in the form of #CiteBlackWomen, is one means of protecting Black women from being rendered invisible again. Institutional and independent scholars have also begun using the companion #CiteBlackWomenSunday to take advantage of democratized digital spaces to credit Black women as knowledge producers. The following five guiding principles are the foundation of the move to properly credit Black women for their scholarship online, in classrooms, and outside of academia: 1 Read Black women’s work. 2 Integrate Black women into the CORE of your syllabus (­­in life and in the classroom). 3 Acknowledge Black women’s intellectual production. 4 Make space for Black women to speak. 5 Give Black women the space and time to breathe. Doing these five things can ensure that people regularly “­­engage with voices so often silenced or left behind.”19 The past two years have shown #CiteBlackWomen and #CiteBlackWomenSunday functioning as digital Sankofa in a society that simultaneously subjects Black women to hyper visibility and violent invisibility. For example, though misogynoir has become a recognized term over the last decade, it is often divorced from its origins in the Black feminist scholarship of Moya Bailey and Trudy. They note the biting irony of being erased by the very process they carefully theorized in “­­On misogynoir: citation, erasure, and plagiarism.”20 Their access to the academy and social media allows them to not only defend themselves against erasure but also model this practice for Black women with less institutional protection. It is important to note that this protection does not extend to Trudy, an independent scholar and artist. Institution protection is also ephemeral at best and theoretical at worst for Bailey because she is a Black woman in the academy. Hence the need to employ hashtags to do the work that institutions are often unwilling to do on behalf of marginalized faculty and students. Approximately ten years after founding a movement to give voice and offer protection to survivors of sexual abuse, activist Tarana Burke found herself relying on Black women on social media to prevent her erasure from the rapidly rising popularity of #MeToo. Burke, a woman who has spent the past decades advocating

214  K.T. Ewing

for Black girls between the ages of 12 and 18, had begun using the phrase Me Too as an indication of the widespread nature of abuse against Black girls. When actress Alyssa Milano popularized the phrase with a hashtag, Black women across Twitter quickly rallied to ensure that Burke’s activism was neither whitewashed nor eclipsed by Milano’s status as a white celebrity. Burke defended herself against erasure by taking to traditional and social media with a lengthy accounting of her work and its broad impact. This instance of citing Black women also calls to mind the collective defense of Black girlhood that occurred in the wake of a new round of rape accusations against singer R. Kelly. Unlike what happened in the 1990s, Black women were equipped with new technologies and wielded them to create a new hashtag, #fasttailedgirls, to delineate a long history of blaming Black girls for their experiences with sexual assault as opposed to focusing on the perpetrators.21 This digital defense of Black girls has antecedents in the works mentioned in the slavery section above and also in Hazel V. Carby’s Reconstructing Womanhood: The Emergence of the ­­Afro-​­​­​­American Woman Novelist. Carby explains: The institutionalized rape of black women has never been as powerful a symbol of black oppression as the spectacle of lynching. Rape has always involved patriarchal notions of women being, at best, not entirely unwilling accomplices, if not outwardly inviting sexual attack. The links between black women and illicit sexuality consolidated during the antebellum years had powerful ideological consequences for the next hundred and fifty years.22 Thirty years after Carby articulated the historical connection between stereotypes of Black women and their sexual vulnerability, Black women took to social media in defense of themselves, their sisters, and their foremothers.

Go Back and Find Your Mother Academia has a ­­well-​­​­​­deserved reputation for cannibalizing and disappearing Black women scholars while using their knowledge production to protect itself from claims of racism and discrimination. Jennifer C. Nash argues that in spite of this tradition, Black women have remained mostly steadfast in a belief that academia is a worthy site of struggle. Black Feminism Reimagined: After Intersectionality begins with a familiar premise that “…studying the field’s engagement with intersectionality allows a window into [women’s studies] longer and fraught relationship with black feminist studies, and with black feminists.”23 The last forty years of scholarship is a testament to this idea and the progress they have made, albeit at great cost to themselves. When Alice Walker wrote about the collective experience of Black women going in search of their mother’s gardens, a process that firmly situates them within a tradition of shared knowledge, she laid a theoretical foundation for what would become Saidiya Hartman’s Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  215

Atlantic Slave Route. Hartman’s literal Sankofa journey to Ghana, however, was not rooted in a quest to find genetic mothers. She went in search of those who had been disappeared through the initial violence of capture and sale and again through the process of either dying or being subsumed in a larger process of birthing the Atlantic World. When she explains, “­­The legacy that I chose to claim was articulated in the ongoing struggle to escape, stand down, and defeat slavery in all of its myriad forms,” this includes its afterlives.24 And it is these literal and figurative ghosts of slavery that bring Black women scholars from archives to digital spaces in a quest to honor the dead by attending to the living. Black women’s history is the largest reclamation project of the last forty years. Through an insistence on using an intersectional approach, Black women scholars have brought their stories from margin to center, and in doing so, opened more doors for disabled, queer, poor, and undocumented histories. Reflecting its roots in Black feminist theorizing, intersectionality “­­compels a recognition of how gendered bodies also inhabit other categories of difference, opening new and important pathways into gender theorizing that [take] seriously the impact of other forms of difference on power outcomes.”25 As several of the founding members transition toward retirement and senior scholars assume greater leadership within the organization, junior scholars are finding and giving their mothers their flowers while they remain among the living. #CiteBlackWomen, though not rooted in any particular faith tradition, resounds like a call for Black communities to honor their mothers and for others to respect the intellectual and cultural products that arise from Black women’s wisdom and labor. The passing of ­­Terborg-​­​­​­Penn and ABWH’s celebration of her legacy invokes an ancestral calling for Black women historians to continue their return for a fuller narrative of our people. It is not taboo for us to go back and fetch what was taken such that we would forget. Sankofa teaches us that any definition of feminism as “­­white women’s business” is detrimental to Black families and is marked by a refusal to read the writings or listen to the voices of Black women. The feminism of Ida B. Wells teaches us that Black women have always had a feminist agenda that was distinct from the concerns of mainstream white feminists and the dictates of a white supremacist society.26 Black women scholars of various disciplinary backgrounds working in Black Studies traditions have gone back and recovered significant portions of our story as a people. They reclaimed narratives of enslavement, moved Black women from the margin to the center of Civil Rights and Black Power narratives, and made intersectionality—​­​­​­ ­­ in theory and ­­praxis—​­​­​­a defining characteristic of discourse within the academy and beyond. Now they are using new technologies and social media to ensure that Black women’s contributions and experiences are recognized and institutionalized in this contemporary digital landscape. Barbara Smith conjures the Black feminist ethos of Ida B. Wells when she states: Feminism is the political theory and practice that struggles to free all women: women of color, ­­working-​­​­​­class women, poor women, disabled

216  K.T. Ewing

women, lesbians, old ­­women—​­​­​­a s well as white, economically privileged, heterosexual women. Anything less than this vision of total freedom is not feminism, but merely female ­­self-​­​­​­aggrandizement.27 Embracing this idea calls forth a more expansive definition of Blackness and womanhood, including our trans siblings as well. A Black feminist future for scholars of Black history requires intersectionality. Otherwise, without the input of our full community, we will fall short and risk replicating the same hierarchy of oppressions we were designed to subvert.

Notes 1 See bell hooks, Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center (­­Boston, MA: South End Press, 2000). 2 Constance M. Carroll, “­­Three’s a Crowd: The Dilemma of the Black Woman in Higher Education,” in Gloria T. Hull, Patricia Bell Scott, and Barbara Smith (­­eds.), All of the Women are White, All of the Blacks are Men: But Some of Us Are Brave: Black Women’s Studies (­­New York: The Feminist Press, 1982), ­­115–​­​­​­28. 3 Barbara Christian, “­­The Race for Theory,” Cultural Critique 6, 1987: ­­51–​­​­​­63. 4 See also the works of Patricia Hill Collins, Angela Davis, Alexis Pauline Gumbs, bell hooks, Katherine McKittrick, Toni Morrison, and Sylvia Winter. 5 Tina M. Campt, Image Matters: Archive, Photography, and the African Diaspora (­­Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2012), 112. 6 See Jacqueline Jones, Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow: Black Women, Work, and the Family, from Slavery to the Present (­­New York: Vintage Books, 1985). 7 Deborah Gray White, Ar’n’t I a Woman?: Female Slaves in the Plantation South (­­New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 1999), 15. 8 Hine defines dissemblance as “­­the behavior and attitudes of Black women that created the appearance of openness and disclosure but actually shielded the truth of their inner lives and selves from their oppressors, and often from Black men and Black children.” See Darlene Clark Hine, Hine Sight: Black Women and the ­­Re-​­​­​­Construction of History (­­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994), xxviii. 9 See Jenny Sharpe, Ghosts in the Archive: A Literary Archaeology of Black Women’s Lives (­­Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2002). 10 Hull, Scott, and Smith, (­­eds.), All of the Women are White, xviii. 11 Darlene Clark Hine, “­­Rape and the Inner Lives of Black Women: Thoughts on the Culture of Dissemblance,” in Hine Sight: Black Women and the ­­Re-​­​­​­Construction of African American History (­­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994), 37. 12 Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham, “­­African American Women’s History and the Metalanguage of Race,” Signs 17(­­2), 1992: 225. 13 Frances M. Beale, “­­Double Jeopardy: To Be Black and Female,” in Toni Cade Bambara and Eleanor W. Traylor (­­eds.), The Black Woman: An Anthology (­­New York: Washington Square Press, 1970), ­­109–​­​­​­22 and Deborah K. King, “­­Multiple Jeopardy, Multiple Consciousness: The Context of a Black Feminist Ideology,” Signs 14(­­1), 1988: ­­42–​­​­​­72. 14 See Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (­­New York: Routledge, 2008). 15 Combahee River Collective, “­­Combahee River Collective Statement,” in Barbara Smith (­­ed.), Home Girls (­­New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press), 264. 16 Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw, “­­Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory and Antiracist Politics,” University of Chicago Legal Forum 1, 1989: ­­139–​­​­​­67 and Kimberlé

Sankofa and Black Feminist History, 1979–2019  217

Williams Crenshaw, “­­Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color,” Stanford Law Review 43(­­6), 1991: ­­1241–​­​­​­99. 17 Ashley D. Farmer, Remaking Black Power: How Black Women Transformed an Era (­­Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2017), 193. 18 Janelle Monáe, “­­Django Jane,” Wondaland Arts Society, track 6 on Dirty Computer, 2018, compact disc. 19 Christen A. Smith, “­­Black Women: A Critical Praxis,” Cite Black Women, 2018, https://­­w ww.citeblackwomencollective.org/­­­­our-​­​­​­praxis.html. 20 Moya Bailey & Trudy, “­­On Misogynoir: Citation, Erasure, and Plagiarism,” Feminist Media Studies 18(­­4), 2018: ­­762–​­​­​­69. See also the work of I’Nasah Crockett and Sydette Harry on the limits of social media as a safe space and the stakes of hyper visibility. 21 Marcus Anthony Hunter, Mary Pattillo, Zandria F. Robinson, and ­­ Keeanga-​­​­​ ­Yamahtta Taylor, “­­Black Placemaking: Celebration, Play, and Poetry,” Theory, Culture & Society 33(­­­­7–​­​­​­8), 2016: ­­47–​­​­​­48. 22 Hazel V. Carby, Reconstructing Womanhood: The Emergence of the ­­Afro-​­​­​­American Woman Novelist (­­New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 39. 23 Jennifer C. Nash, Black Feminism Reimagined: After Intersectionality (­­Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2019), 2. 24 Saidiya Hartman, Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route (­­New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008), 234. 25 Zandria F. Robinson, “­­Intersectionality and Gender Theory,” in Barbara J. Risman, Carissa M. Froyum, and William J. Scarborough (­­eds.), Handbook of the Sociology of Gender (­­New York: Springer International Publishing, 2018), 70. 26 See Paula J. Giddings, Ida, A Sword among Lions: Ida B. Wells and the Campaign against Lynching (­­New York: Harper Collins, 2008). 27 Barbara Smith, “­­Racism and Women’s Studies,” in Hull, Scott, and Smith (­­eds.), All of the Women Are White (­­New York: The Feminist Press, 1982), 49.

13 WOMEN’S STUDIES IN NIGERIA A Critical Perspective Folasade Hunsu

Introduction Creating and spreading knowledge about women in Nigeria is an academic enterprise that has yielded much result despite the problems that have attended this effort. Though this enterprise, as it obtains in other parts of the world, has come under different ­titles—​­Women’s Studies, Gender Studies, and Feminist ­Studies—​­its main goal has been to call for a revision of existing body of knowledge, which admits gender as a category of academic enquiry and recognizes women as a critical part that completes academic research. While much has been done in terms of tracing the history, prescribing, developing methods and concepts, and identifying challenges and prospects of the field,1 a proper contextualization of the activities that are responsible for the growth of Women Studies and subsequent transformation of the intellectual arm of patriarchy, the Nigerian academy, has largely been ignored. This chapter maps the institutionalization of studies about women in Nigeria and its indebtedness to feminist principles and methods. It is based on the notions that the academy is “­subject to changes emanating as much from the academy itself and the wider society” and that “­k nowledge production systems involve the intricate interplay of institutional, intellectual, ideological, and individual factors.”2 All these factors have worked together to open up Nigerian academy to Women Studies, and this essay identifies feminism as the ideological thrust of this change. Clearly, Nigerian scholarship generally has had a history with feminism. ­Home-​­based and diasporic Nigerian women scholars were at the forefront of rejecting (­radical) feminist theory as a Western construct, which did not adequately reflect the cultural, socioeconomic, and political realities of Africa. Their efforts produced an array of theoretical postulations made as better alternatives to feminism: Chikwenye Okonjo Ogunyemi’s womanism, Catherine Acholonu’s DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-17

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  219

motherism, Molara O ­ gundipe-​­Leslie’s STIWAnism, Mary E. Kolawole’s African womanism, and Obioma Nnaemeka’s Negofeminism. However, when it comes to the practice of scholars and curriculum content, this study shows that knowledge production in the field of Women Studies in Nigeria follow the trajectories of feminism. It draws examples from publications of selected academics, curricula, and programs of centers to argue that the transformative framework of feminist scholarship has worked for the field in Nigeria. It also underscores the changes that the field has occasioned in academic and national developmental and democratic agenda, especially in the areas of policy making, gender equality, and social justice.

Women’s Studies in Nigeria: Historical Background Before the 1975 U.N. Decade for Women, there was no recognized field of study or body of research called “Women’s Studies” in Nigeria. As noted by Awe and Mba, despite the appearance of the first essay on Nigerian women fifteen years before the U.N. declaration, academic enquiry into women “­was fragmentary, uncoordinated, and generally focused on localized case histories and empirical.”3 Their report, which was mainly a review of the field from the late 1970s to 1991, shows that the first organized attempt to bring together people who were interested in carrying out research on women did not take place until 1976 with a conference on Nigerian women held at the University of Ibadan (­U I). This conference was followed by a series of defining events that occurred from 1977 to 1986. Some of them were the publication of an essay by Bolanle Awe, which unveiled historical women in precolonial Nigeria, the introduction of the first course on women, “­Women in Society,” into the curriculum of Ahmadu Bello University, and the establishment of a continental women’s association that drew members from Nigeria and other parts of ­A frica—​­Association of African Women for Research and Development (­A AWORD).4 Awe’s essay was the first of its kind that reckoned women leaders as worthy subjects of historical research. During an interview, Awe admitted that her choice of a strong female traditional chief of Ibadan in that essay was a deliberate attempt to highlight women’s power and visibility in traditional Yoruba setting and challenge their erasure as historic and positive figures.5 The essay was an intervention which changed the monopoly of m ­ en-​­centered narratives in the field of African/­Nigerian History. Awe’s emergence as a voice in Nigerian academy is undoubtedly a result of her belief that activism should be matched with academic work.6 Her awareness of the import of activism translated to her participation in women’s societies in addition to her concerted intellectual struggle against the subordination of women. Her works are not only academic products but written evidence of women’s political power in traditional Yoruba society. One of the credits of Awe’s works is that it highlighted the usefulness of biographical approach to Women Studies. Her edited volume on women’s life histories,

220  Folasade Hunsu

Nigerian Women in Historical Perspective, which she had put together in the 1980s but was only accepted for publication in 1992, was followed by more than ten women’s biographies.7 Awe’s status as a full professor of History at the UI at this time she published her first essay on women was helpful. Though the topic was “­strange” and her approach unusual, the quality of the essay was not in doubt as it became the reference point for researchers who were interested in demonstrating women’s political relevance in precolonial and indigenous Nigerian/­A frican societies.8 Awe was not exactly acting in isolation because there were other scholars who showed interest in the hidden lives and activities of women. Nina Mba’s phenomenal study published in 1982 was not just the first b­ ook-​­length study on Nigerian women but has remained one of the most compelling scholarly works that put women at the center of academic discourse and challenged the trivialization of women and their roles in the making of Nigeria. According to Mann, “­most political histories of precolonial peoples are written as if women did not exist or played no role in politics. Mba documents the important political and administrative activities of women in precolonial Southern Nigeria.”9 The book is a seminal work on women’s political discourse in Nigeria and it heralded a period in which more attention was paid to the unusual sources of women’s visibility in ­decision-​­shaping and ­decision-​­making processes in the country. One of the advantages of having a book devoted to women in Nigeria at the time was that it became a collation of women’s political activity and influence from different areas of the geographical southern part, from the S­ outh-​­East to the S­ outh-​­West and the ­South-​­South. The varieties it provided proved the resilience of Nigerian women across cultural and ethnic borders. About the same time in the 1980s, Simi Afonja pioneered research into women in precolonial and colonial Nigeria in the field of Sociology. She interrogated the structures that promoted women subordination in the labor force, particularly in colonial Nigeria, by contrasting gender stratification and women’s authority at the period with what were obtained in traditional settings. With focus on the Yoruba of the Southwest of Nigeria like Awe, her works opened up the closed ­m ale-​­centered sociological research in Nigeria and pointed out the disruption that colonial structures brought to economic activities of women. Her research showed that “­capitalist incursion proletarianized women’s labor, increased their workload in agriculture and altered ­pre-​­colonial i­ntra-​­household dynamics to the disadvantage of women.”10 Afonja and Awe were instrumental to the organization of workshops, seminars, and conferences on Women Studies in the 1980s. One of such was hosted in 1988 at Obafemi Awolowo University, where Afonja was a professor of Sociology. It brought together researchers from various universities and disciplines in Nigeria and Canada. Afonja neither ignores the multiple theorizations of feminism nor denies her feminist approach to research, but admits that “­the African decolonization project” is a task for “­A frican feminists” and advocates for collaboration among feminists globally so that they can “­insert cultural realities into contemporary knowledge, policies and policy

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  221

making.”11 A major step taken by Afonja at the Obafemi Awolowo University was the initiation of the Women’s Studies Programme in 1986. It was a unit in the Department of Sociology and a kind of intellectual movement and space that created awareness about ­women-​­centered research and provided the opportunity to mentor younger academics who were interested in Women Studies. Olabisi Aina is one of the products of this movement. Aina herself has evolved into an iconic academic figure in the field. She has served as the director of women’s centers and was part of the team that produced Nigeria’s Gender Policy in 2006. Through consultancy, Aina has been able to push for gender mainstreaming in government institutions including the Nigerian Police. Kamene Okonjo, another contemporary of Awe, explored the active role of Igbo women in traditional governance to prove that the absence of women in the politics in Nigeria of the 1960s and 1970s was a colonial heritage. She has been interested in showing the role of women as cultural agents in the transformation of the society, and in the same way that Awe, Mba, and Afonja disproved the dormant image of women in traditional settings, she has underscored their centrality to the political structures of their societies prior to colonialism. Her focus on rural women at the outset of her academic career helped in exposing the disconnection between women’s visibility in traditional/­local politics and absence in national ­decision-​­making arenas. Awe, Mba, Afonja, and Okonjo, between 1977 and 1986, had, through their scholarship, drawn attention to women’s studies in Nigeria, so much so that international journals and books on women and on Africa now included essays on Nigerian women. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society remains the pathbreaker in this respect, featuring, for example, Awe’s “­Reflections on the Conference on Women and Development: I” in 1977 and Afonja’s “­Changing modes of production and the sexual division of labor among the Yoruba” in 1981.12 In terms of the scope of the works of these women, it covered precolonial and colonial Nigeria in order to critique misconceptions about Nigerian women in history, economy, and politics. More importantly, each of these women, all elderly now, apart from Nina Mba who died on January 14, 2002, have never rejected the label “­feminist.” They pride themselves in being part of feminist scholarship. One of the significant and groundbreaking impacts they made in changing the face of Nigerian academy was to establish centers for Women’s Studies. Awe and other women established the ­fi rst-​­ever center for Women Studies in Nigeria, Women’s Research and Documentation Centre (­WORDOC) located at the UI. The center was at the time more like an association because it had “­members” from other universities who were working together to sponsor and organize workshops, conferences, and seminars in women’s studies. Afonja started the Centre for Gender and Social Policy Studies in 1996 at the Obafemi Awolowo University, and her protégé, Aina, who became the second director of the center, was a focal resource person while establishing the Centre for Gender and Development Studies at the Ekiti State University in 2014.

222  Folasade Hunsu

In addition to the research output and activities of the fi ­ rst-​­generation academics, the formation of AAWORD was another factor that promoted Women Studies. Pereira described it as “­a landmark event in which African feminist scholars collectively registered their institutionalized presence.”13 Members were representing themselves, their institutions, and most importantly, an academic movement that concerned itself with the positioning of women at the center of academic discourse and developing appropriate tools for conducting their research. Understandably, she named members of the association as “­feminist scholars” because their mission was clear: to carry out what Hooks calls “­liberatory struggle,” whereby “­g roups of people who have been seen as objects begin with a revolutionary process wherein they assert that they are subjects” and as subjects, they are engaged in “­defining their reality, shaping their new identity, naming their history, telling their story.”14 In 1982, Women in Nigeria (­W IN), a nongovernmental organization and first indigenous association engaged in advocacy and intellectual struggle against discriminatory policies, systems, and narratives was founded by feminist activists. Though the National Council of Women Societies (­NCWS) had been in existence ­t wenty-​­four years before WIN, it was nothing like WIN. WIN was a group of female and male activists from different professions, including academics, and its membership included prominent women such as Ayesha Imam, Bene Madunagu, Amina Mama, Charmaine Pereira, and Joy Ngozi Ezeilo, who are known and ­self-​­acclaimed feminists. According to Pereira: WIN’s basic philosophy was that women should organise to struggle for their rights but in order to do this, it was necessary to work from a knowledge base that would provide an understanding of how women and men’s lives are structured by the ­socio-​­economic and political conditions under which they lived. WIN’s objectives included research, advocacy, ­policy-​ ­making and the dissemination of information viewed as an integrated complex of activities.15 Within a period of ten years, WIN had published more than seven books,16 all on topical issues that contained rich data and ­gender-​­based analysis, which were to translate into action that would change the conditions of women in Nigeria, commending the efforts of WIN in advancing women’s interest in Nigeria and being a catalyst for the recognition of women studies in the 1980s, calling it a “­socialist feminist group.”17 The association, through its members, grounded “­ research/­ teaching about women” within “­ socialist feminist ideology,” and through its feminism, research methods departed “­from the level of the case studies of women as a separate category, to the study of gender relations,” thereby “­focusing on the structure of society that shape men and women’s lives.”18 The feminist leaning of the association’s leadership and its operations soon attracted opposition from certain quarters, and “­by the ­m id-​­1990s, what used to be an organized, national forum for challenging women’s subordination had had its

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  223

strength diffused.”19 Precisely, in 1996, it gave way to a more a­ cademic-​­oriented feminist organization: Network for Women’s Studies in Nigeria (­ N WSN). WIN had consistently held annual conferences from 1982 to 1987 while NWSN took up the task from 1996 to the new millennium with its first official outing, “­Setting an Agenda for Gender and Women’s Studies in Nigeria” in 1996. To certain extent, NWSN successfully impacted university education through its development of human capital that was “­dedicated to strengthening l­ocally-​ g­ rounded and relevant teaching and research in gender and women’s studies for Nigeria’s vast population of students.”20 The association’s agenda included developing new theoretical and conceptual tools for dismantling ­patriarchy-​­inspired curricula and critical attitude. Its members devoted considerable space to critiquing curricula of Nigerian universities and ensuring that their lopsidedness was exposed. Pereira was an executive member of the association and the first to publish a book on gender and universities in Nigeria titled Gender in the Making of the Nigerian University System (­2007). Another event which impacted Women Studies in Nigeria was the establishment of WORDOC. As the first research center for women in Nigeria, it was and still is a place where researchers interested in women could find data to work with. Iwara calls it a “­Special Library,” with membership drawn from within and outside Nigeria.21 This center is more like a ­quasi-​­women’s association than an academic center, because, according to Odejide, “­it has operated like a civil society organization” because of the way it has been “­responding to national and international issues” while cooperating with “­professional women’s groups like the International Federation of Women Lawyers” and “­­community-​ b­ ased organisations.”22 Going by Odejide’s essay on WORDOC, collaborative outreach, education and advocacy, and publishing are the tools deployed by the center in advancing women’s studies in Nigeria. This implies that the generation of debates and ideas was not an exclusive preserve of academics. The professional bodies served as representatives of a broad spectrum of Nigerian women across class, age, ethnic, and religious boundaries, and all work together to generate and grow data source and framework for research in women’s studies. A subsidiary but important factor which worked well for the evolvement of the field were the activities of wives of military heads of state between 1985 and 1998. Their husbands allowed them to champion projects and programs which were women centered. Mrs. Maryam Babangida’s Better Life Programme (­BLP), launched in 1987, was “­targeted at rural women in Nigeria with the aim of creating awareness in women through mobilization so that they can realize, utilize and develop their potentials for a more fulfilling life and national development.”23 Mrs. Maryam Abacha, wife of another military dictator, also initiated Family Support Programme in 1994. Mrs. Babangida’s initiative generated dozens of essays, most of which were critical of the intent, content, and implementation of the program. Amina Mama, a prominent member of NWSN, tagged it state feminism and coined the term “­femocracy” to capture the deviant nature of these initiatives. As she puts it:

224  Folasade Hunsu

Femocracies exploit the commitments of the international movement for greater gender equality while actually only advancing the interests of a small female elite, and in the l­ong-​­term undermining women’s interests by upholding the patriarchal status quo. In short, femocracy is a feminine autocracy running in parallel to the patriarchal oligarchy upon which it relies for its authority, and which it supports completely.24 In her conceptualization of femocracy, she argues that the practice was not democratic and that the military in Nigeria, through their wives, only used it to legitimize and maintain their repressive regimes which neither had genuine interest in the ­well-​­being of citizens nor any interest in transforming the skewed gendered sociopolitical space. However, irrespective of the negative attention it drew from the academy, these programs played some roles in the advancement of research on women in Nigeria. The concept of “­women empowerment” in Nigeria became popular through these initiatives because they focused on providing microfinance for rural and uneducated women who were mainly farmers and petty traders. More than three decades later, many works on economic women empowerment in Nigeria would refer to BLP. Television and radio stations, billboards, print newspapers, and books were devoted to highlighting the activities of these women. Awe, who had earlier complained about how publishers were rejecting works with focus on women, later testified that from the late 1980s, “­local publishers have shown a new interest in publishing books on women.”25 Though this move by military juntas was not in most part to the advantage of the majority of women, the history of Women Studies in Nigeria will be incomplete without noting this period. The implication for Women Studies was that women issues were no longer irrelevant, and a knowledge base was gradually growing.

Institutionalizing Women’s Studies in Nigeria: Centers, Methods, and Concepts The institutionalization of Women Studies in Nigeria is marked by the existence of academic programs with w ­ ell-​­developed curricula that support women based in an intellectual space, where specialized methods and frameworks are developed and disseminated for the purpose of nurturing and propagating affirmative action for promoting women. As Fisher aptly states, “­women’s studies must be supported with institutional visibility…We need the words ‘­women’s studies’ to be heard, spoken, and understood as part of everyday academic vocabulary.”26 The visibility of Women Studies in Nigeria, as discussed in this section, has rested on feminist scholars working through centers. Curiously, though the first course on women’s studies “­Women in Society” was mounted at a university in the northern part of the country, Ahmadu Bello University, the first two centers of Women’s Studies established appeared in the southern part: WORDOC in 1986 and Centre for Gender and Social Policy

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  225

Studies, Obafemi Awolowo University (­CGSPS OAU), ­Ile-​­Ife in 1996. However, at the time of conducting this research, there are more than a dozen centers for Women Studies in Nigeria. This section discusses the academic programs of three of these centers, highlighting their dependence on feminist methods. Centre for Gender and Women’s Studies, University of Jos (­U NIJOS), runs an MA and MPhil/­PhD in Women’s Studies and MSc and MPhil/­PhD in Gender Studies. This is the only center in Nigeria that runs separate programs in Women’s Studies and Gender Studies. UI has MA in Gender Studies, domiciled in the Institute of African Studies under which WORDOC also operates. CGSPS OAU offers Postgraduate Diploma, MSc, MPhil, and PhD in Gender and Development Studies. A closer look at the programs offered at UNIJOS and UI reveals the centrality of feminism to the content of courses being taught. Three of the Women’s Studies programs in UNIJOS state that the courses are to help students to: understand and use intersectional feminist analysis to explore the bases of social inequalities; understand how feminist pedagogy may be different from other forms of teaching and learning; and understand the dynamic relationship between Women’s Studies scholarship and feminist social action.27 Connecting Women Studies with feminist action is meant to expose students to the history of the field and the significance of social action as a prerequisite of social justice. Three of the core courses listed are “­Introduction to Women’s Studies,” “­Theories of Feminism,” and “­Men and Masculinities.” Though the courses are not described in the syllabus, the objectives of the program demonstrate strong affinity to feminist principles, which would serve as a basis of interrogating assumptions of male superiority and building intellectual collective to volarize women’s concerns. A similar pattern is noticeable in the MSc Gender Studies Program. Some of the objectives of the program are to “­demonstrate the ability to conduct interdisciplinary feminist analysis,” “­examine and critique ideological assumptions underlying social institutions and systems of representation and evaluate sources, analyze discourse, and consider context from a feminist perspective.”28 All six core courses are ­gender-​­centered. Two of them are “­Introduction to Gender Studies” and “­Social Construct of Femininity and Masculinity.” In addition to the core courses, students are to choose from a long list of electives, depending on their areas of specialization. Feminist Theatre, Women Literary Writers, Women, Mentoring, and Sponsorship are examples of areas of specialization, with each of them featuring related courses under them. The UI displays a list of 16 courses under its MSc Gender Studies Program. Apart from four core courses, all others are electives and each of them combines “­Gender” with other fields such as Medicine, Religion, Law, and Peace and Conflict Studies. Only one of the core courses, “­Introduction to Gender Studies,”

226  Folasade Hunsu

is to “­serve as an introduction to Gender and Feminist Studies.” Furthermore, it states that “­Students will also be introduced to debates amongst scholars and practitioners, activists and individuals about the shifting meanings of terms, identities, ideas in gender and feminist studies.” The rest are “­Introduction to Anthropology,” “­Theory and Practice of Field Investigation,” and “­Independent Research Project.” On the list of electives are two important c­ ourses—​­“­H istory and Philosophy of Feminism” and “­Research Methods in Women and Gender Studies”—​­which are supposed, according to their descriptions, equip students with the historical, analytical, and critical tools necessary for the study of women and gender. “­Research Methods in Women and Gender Studies” highlights methodological differences between “­conventional research” and “­gender studies” and concentrates on “­feminist research methods.” CGSPS was the first of its kind in terms of focus and structure. Unlike WORDOC, which is under the Institute of African Studies, CGSPS started as a ­f ull-​­fledged research center with a ­seven-​­point agenda which includes, among others: To challenge, further strengthen and advance basic and ­action-​­oriented research into issues of equity and equality associated with gender, class, ethnicity, and political differentiation and utilize the findings to advocate for social change, To develop academic programmes of international standing in the field of gender studies To build national capacity in gender and social development, planning and policy analysis through teaching, training, consultancy, documentation and networking.29 The center runs three postgraduate programs: Postgraduate Diploma in Gender and Development, MSc in Gender and Development, and MPhil/­PhD in Gender and Development. While the diploma provides a bridge for students seeking basic knowledge of gender studies, the MSc program has more depth and specific objectives tailored at grooming students to be able to critically analyze data based on their knowledge of gender. Some of the objectives are to “­expose candidates to advanced philosophical basis, theories and methodologies of gender and development”; “­provide a framework within which gender, women and developmental issues can be analysed from a Nigerian/­A frican perspective”; “­t rain a pool of researchers to generate data as publishable information relevant to gender and women’s studies”; and “­improve the skills of candidates to conduct interdisciplinary research on critical areas of women and gender issues and to utilise the findings to promote social change.” These objectives are supported by three core courses: “­Feminist Theories,” “­Gender/­Feminist Methodology,” and “­Gender and Development.” Electives are to be chosen in relation to the choice of area of specialization as it obtains in UNIJOS and UI.

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  227

Perhaps the most revolutionary program domiciled at CGSPS is the “­Community Assembly” (­CA). It is a periodic forum for discussing everyday experiences of women and men and a medium through which the center connects with members of the University community and the public. There are certain features of the CA that fulfill CGSPS agenda listed above and converge with feminist concerns. According to Collins, some of these concerns are “­work, family, sexual politics, motherhood and political activism.”30 I was a panelist at the first CA titled “­Awon Iya Kogberegbe: Mothers and Grandmothers who brooked no nonsense,” held on October 26, 2016. They are referred to subsequently as “­Kogberegbe women” (“­women who brooked no nonsense”). There were seven other people, including a man, on the panel divided into two ­g roups—​­the storytellers and those who were to theorize. Storytellers were to narrate their actions as “­Kogberegbe women” and/­or those of older women with whom they were biologically related. In her opening statement, the director of the center, Olutoyin Mejiuni, commented that “­the reason for the community assembly is for us to have a safe place where we can all come together and share stories and other issues that we talk about in whispers…and to produce occasional papers.”31 The CA was from the outset meant to collect data that would be converted to academic publications. There were stories of aunties, mothers, and grandmothers who stood against sexual harassment, intimidation, and discrimination. The stories told at the forum were personal testimonials about women’s experiences and how they handled them. Organizers do not expect anyone to feel discriminated against, threatened, isolated, or stereotyped. Bearing in mind that women and women’s issues have largely been left out of what counts as knowledge because they are trivialized, the efforts of the center rest on bringing to the fore these seemingly “­t rivial” issues, also known as “­subjugated knowledge.”32 The important thing is that participants share a past (­and sometimes present) that is useful in theorizing and conceptualizing women’s conditions. The CA adopts oral storytelling and testimonials as methods for data gathering. Both are forms of retrieved knowledge, and they work well in oral cultures where documentation is either ­non-​­existent or not properly done and kept. As a method for feminists, it is effective because even in cases where histories are documented, they are mainly from a male perspective. Personal histories as testimonials are implicated in the feminist project of putting a human face to theoretical propositions. In the words of Nnaemeka: Like other ­so-​­called marginal discourses, feminist discourse raises crucial questions about knowledge not only as being but as becoming, not only as a construct but as a construction, not only as a product but as a process. In other words, knowledge as a process is a crucial part of knowledge as a product. By injecting issues of subjectivity and location into epistemological debates, feminist scholarship seeks, as it were, to put a human face on what is called a body of knowledge and in the process unmasks this presumably faceless body.33

228  Folasade Hunsu

What the assembly does is to initiate a process of knowledge production which involves associating conceptual frameworks with personal and lived experiences of known people, and more importantly, to build an alternate narrative to agelong stories that reinforce cultural biases against women. Stories are a powerful source of indoctrination and learning, and therefore generating ­women-​­centered stories is a strategy to advance the course of Women Studies. Nnaemeka’s point about how feminist scholarship “­humanizes” knowledge production is actually about how it “­womanizes” knowledge production. Putting the woman’s face to the process directs attention to areas or issues that are usually glossed over in ­men-​­centered narratives which have been supporting patriarchy. This is why each story is not limited to the forum, but is a type of stories that exist and are useful in conceptualizing women’s concerns. Empowerment is one of the most deployed concepts in the discourse about women in Nigeria. It is conceived as the access to social, economic, and political apparatuses which afford women the opportunity to determine their life course and enjoy as much visibility and agency as men. It is one of the discursive concepts underscored by the panelists as the resource behind Kogberegbe women. Being able to own properties, participate in processes that improve the lives of other women (­and men), and reject biased treatment of themselves and other women are some of the qualities indicative of their empowerment. One of the participants told the story of her grandmother who had been farming with her husband. After some years, the farm yielded enough money for the couple to build their own house, and when the day they were to move into their new house came, the man brought in a new wife. She left the man that night and never returned. The woman was able to start her own farm and subsequently built a house which she turned into a safe house for women who had escaped abusive marriages. The discussion is a continuum of academic enquiry into the conditions of women and the actions that could be taken to improve or transform them. Each of the women mentioned in the narratives are all operating under and within a cultural praxis which gives space to men more than to women. The task before members of the panel, who were to theorize the narratives, was to characterize the actions of Kogberegbe women with the aim of understanding their acts as different and empowering. A storyteller recalled how her grandmother (­born in 1897) turned down the marriage offer of a traditional ruler in her days. At the time in history, a Yoruba traditional ruler, known as Oba, wielded so much power and was revered. Tunde Onadeko describes the Oba as “­the supreme head of the government,” which could not be challenged and “­the representative of Olodumare (­God Almighty).”34 Rejecting the Oba’s offer could have ended badly for the young girl and her family; but according to the story, she stood her ground and was eventually left off the Oba’s hook. Being assertive in a matter like this was not commonplace and could be read as a rebellion against the highest traditional institution. The same woman took in her sister who was rejected by her husband for having only female children. According to the storyteller, when the man was sober enough, he came back pleading to have his wife back, but the Kogberegbe

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  229

woman asked him “­to go and get pregnant, have a son and only then could he come back for his wife.”35 Her identity as a resistant voice challenging female subordination resonates in other stories told about her. The storyteller herself had confronted men who had attempted to harass her daughter in the University. If there is a single concept that has defined the study of women in Nigeria and enhanced its institutionalization, it is most likely to be gender disparity. Focus has been on addressing the absence, underrepresentation, and repression of women in both the private and public spheres of the country, especially after colonialism. Significantly, there is a progression in the way scholars have attempted to unpack factors responsible for this reality of women in Nigeria. For instance, lack of and access to formal education was the major reason adduced for the wide gap between the figures of men and women in ­decision-​­making bodies and economic space in early studies.36 However, a feminist angle has been the identification of religion as a major drawback for women in Nigeria. To be sure, religion is about the most pervasive and sensitive aspect of the country’s existence, and subjecting its practice and texts to feminist reading is highly transgressive. A number of trends emerge from the implication of religion in the conceptualization of gender disparity. The first is that gender disparity is not often traceable to indigenous religions because gender roles are clearly stated and women and men are interdependent, that Christianity and Islam are responsible for the erasure and marginalization of women in the public/­political space, and lastly that religious texts (­Christian and Islamic) are often interpreted by men and therefore used to women’s disadvantage. In examining indigenous religion among the Yoruba of Southwest Nigeria, Oyeronke Olajubu contends that women are visible in the private and public aspects of indigenous religion, and she makes a distinction between old and contemporary oral texts. She opines that the insistence of contemporary narratives on the fact that the progenitor of the Yoruba race, Oduduwa, is male is questionable. She argues that “­hermeneutics of suspicion may be required when dealing with Yoruba religious texts” because “­a reexamination from a feminist perspective” is likely to show that “­the primary agent in the cosmology process to whom Olodumare delegated authority may have been a woman (­Oduduwa).”37 Olajubu’s position about the agency of the woman in the activities of the Supreme God, based the old oral text, is to draw attention to women’s empowerment in Yoruba indigenous religious space. For her, gender disparity in contemporary texts should not be considered divine but ­m an-​­made. In addition, she does not fail to demonstrate that Christianity was a platform for gender disparity and that women had to fight for their space in Yoruba Christian traditions. Noting that Yoruba women converted later than men to Christianity from indigenous religion than men, but that as soon as they were converted, they resisted Christian prescription of women’s docility, she remarks: But with the increasing conversion of women to Christianity, change was inevitable, especially as these women were active participants and

230  Folasade Hunsu

sometimes leaders in the indigenous religion. Understandably, Yoruba women sought to transform the subordinate role prescribed for women in Christianity.38 This transformation is in itself a struggle against gender disparity and by extension a rewriting of practical codes of Christianity along the lines of indigenous religion which colonial powers regarded as a better option for the colonized. Mejiuni also submits that Islam and Christianity laid the foundation for the gap between men and women education in Nigeria. She argues that the complexity of Nigerian situation belies the claim that formal education is a ticket to women’s emancipation. Her thesis is that religious and d­ eep-​­seated cultural values are major feeders of formal and informal educational processes which negatively affect the experiences and identity of women in Nigeria and ultimately disempower them. She submits that for women’s low social status to be changed, they must be part of “­­decision-​­making processes as equals” with men as “­state actors,” members of “­civil society movements,” and active participants in the “­cultural sphere.”39 Mejiuni advances a position that Nigerian social space is designed to favor men and deny women access to social justice, because the processes of developing and educating citizens are closed to women who are usually restricted by religion to exercise autonomy and agency. Her submission tallies with the assessment of Olajubu that a reexamination and reinscription of religious texts are some of the antidotes for gender disparity in Nigeria. Owing to the dominance of Islam in the northern part, the region has supplied most of the data used in assessing the influence of Islam on the realities of women in Nigeria. Early marriage with attendant health challenges, low level of women education, and lately the effects of insurgency are some of the concerns of scholars interested in studying women from this region. Though gender disparity cuts across the different regions of the country, its manifestation in the northern part is usually tied to the (­m is)­application of Quranic injunctions. Ayesha M. Imam is an international feminist figure whose activism and research have combined to dispel patriarchal interpretation of Islamic injunctions and practices. Although her fame as an activist derives mainly from the role she played in fighting for the acquittal of Amina Lawal, the woman condemned to death by stoning under the Sharia law in 2003, Imam’s research profile in Women Studies is definitive of intellectual activism in Nigeria and evidence of the achievement of feminist scholars in confronting ­religion-​­based bias against women. From being a top executive of WIN to cofounding BAOBAB, an intellectual cum activist group that has remained at the forefront of struggle against gendered oppression in Nigeria, Imam is a good example of how religion, ethnicity, and class reflect in the output of Women Studies scholars in Nigeria. Her interest is in deconstructing canonical Islamic texts and raising awareness about the use of these texts in the continued repression of women. Her argument is usually threefold: that it is not true that canonical texts and the Shariah law are ­God-​­given, and therefore to her, they are v­ alue-​­laden and subject to manipulations that promoters and

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  231

enforcers of lopsided Shariah law in Nigeria are playing the politics of Muslim identity where women are denied sexual and reproductive rights and that religious fundamentalisms can best be addressed by systematic internal and external interventions which will give marginalized groups a sense of belonging and curb indiscriminate arms deal and training.40 Ayesha’s introduction of a gendered perspective into Quranic discourse and especially Sharia law is targeted at addressing the disparity between the treatment of women and men under the same law and demonstrate the possibility of being a feminist and Islamist. She does not condemn the introduction of Sharia law, but contends with the skewed interpretation of the Quran and subsequent bias in meting out justice to women under the law in the same way that another feminist scholar from the northern part of Nigeria, Adamu, calls for women to mobilize against discriminatory implementation of the law. She suggests that the polarization of the identity of the Islamist feminist should be resisted as it only encourages systems and practice of oppressive laws against women. She shares her experience: For instance, in a forum I was asked whether I am a feminist or Islamist. When I argued that I am both, my response did not satisfy the audience… The response generated quite some confusion because my academic efforts and activism on women’s issues are perceived more on the side of feminism than Islamism, yet I was the president of a Muslim women’s association at that time and I am very active within the Islamic movement. The debate centred on the contradiction and validity of being Islamist and at the same time being critical of the perceived Islamic position regarding women. The perpetuation of this antagonistic relationship helps to further the marginalisation of Muslim women and keep them from playing a role in the transformation of the religion and the society.41 Insurgency has even compounded the implication of religion in the marginality of women in the northern part of Nigeria and the apprehension of Imam and Adamu about the absence of social justice in the interpretation of Islamic texts is heightened. As noted earlier, Nigeria has had the fortune of producing most of the alternative and indigenous theories for interpreting women and women’s issues and a good number of them were postulated by scholars from the field of Literature. This is not surprising, because long before other academic fields started the study of women, the creative space had launched into writing about women. Flora Nwapa, after a rocky start and rejections by publishing houses in the 1960s, finally published her first novel Efuru in 1966, thereby breaking the monopoly of men in Nigerian literary production. Women writers such as Mabel Segun, Buchi Emecheta, Molara O ­ gundipe-​­Leslie, and others soon produced enough works to engage the attention of critics. These early critics focused on using the texts to conceptualize motherhood because it was a major thematic preoccupation of these writers. Many Nigerian cultures place premium on reproduction as

232  Folasade Hunsu

the defining characteristic of a woman and therefore, any woman that is unable to perform this role is stripped of womanhood. Therefore, the problematization of the woman question forms a substantial part of scholarship in the discipline. The works of Buchi Emecheta, Zaynab Alkali, Akachi ­Adimora-​­Ezeigbo, and Sefi Atta are offering new concepts of womanhood in the Nigerian context. Female characters do not have to be married or involved in heterosexual relationships and they do not depend on societal approval to live fulfilled lives. Both in the early and contemporary writings, the rejection of limiting private and public roles for women is common. From their reading of these characters, critics downplay motherhood as a prerequisite of womanhood and extol attributes like resilience, vocality, and autonomy as the hallmarks of the Nigerian woman who is able to resist patriarchy at the domestic and national levels. Akung classifies Atta’s Everything Good Will Come as a Nigerian feminist novel, because it is a “­counter discourse to the negative image of women in predominantly male authored works. The woman is no longer the femme fatale, a voiceless, mere extension of the man,”42 and it portrays her as a ­self-​­definitive member of the society. As literary productions which refute ­long-​­standing stereotypical images of women in ­male-​­authored texts, some of these texts are grounded in the cultures and histories of Nigerian ethnic groups and are read as emerging perspectives to womanhood and motherhood in these groups. A ­ dimora-​­Ezeigbo’s trilogy The Last of the Strong Ones (­1996), House of Symbols (­2001), and Children of the Eagle (­2002) are novels about the experiences of Igbo women in precolonial, colonial, and p­ ost-​­independence Nigeria. The first novel is a c­ ounter-​­discourse to Achebe’s portrayal of Igbo women as docile and spectators in historical events in Things Fall Apart. In an insightful study into this dialogue, Kalu Wosu and Jane Nnamdi: Chinua Achebe and Akachi ­Adimora-​­Ezeigbo are both Igbo, and therefore, partake of the same cultural background. Achebe’s novel, a riposte to European ethnocentrism, has thrown up issues bothering on gender and power in the Igbo society. His realist presentation of the Igbo world may have been done out of innocence, but the overwhelming male chauvinistic undertone is what Akachi ­Adimora-​­Ezeigbo seeks to deconstruct.43 The Last of the Strong Ones is populated by men and women groups patterned after traditional Igbo political structure where gender roles are complementary and sometimes overlapping. The thrust of ­Adimora-​­Ezeigbo’s writing is denouncing the ­one-​­sided depiction of Igbo culture as perennially patriarchal.

Conclusion Women Studies in Nigeria is an a­ ll-​­inclusive field which has transformed the country’s academic landscape. This is connected to the symbiotic relationship

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  233

between intellectualism and activism in feminist scholarship. Individuals, associations, and centers are all responsible for the growth of Women Studies in Nigeria. Interestingly, the alternative to “­isms” such as motherism and womanism are neither developed enough to be taught as courses nor are there concrete achievements ascribed to them in the academy. In the north, where the violation of religious laws has dire consequences, feminist scholars have continued to engage mainstream patriarchal religious discourses in order to ensure social justice and gender equality. Biographical, ethnographic, and personalist methods are veritable tools for engendering knowledge and promoting new perspectives to the study of women across different social classes, locations, and religions in Nigeria. The interests shown in ­ethnic-​­based studies have increased the volume of publications on women and helped in underscoring the complexities of the Nigerian experience.

Notes 1 See, for instance, Bolanle Awe and Nina Mba, “­Women’s Research and Documentation Center (­Nigeria),” Signs 16(­4), 1991: ­859–​­64; Mama Amina, Women’s Studies and Studies of Women in Africa During the 1990s: CODESRIA Working Paper Series 5/­96 (­Senegal: CODESRIA, 1996); and Charmaine Pereira, “­L ocating Gender and Women’s Studies in Nigeria: What Trajectories for the Future?” Gender Activism and Studies in Africa, CODESRIA Gender Series 3, (­Senegal: CODESRIA, 2004), ­1–​­26. Charmaine Pereira (­ed.), Concepts and Methods for Women’s Studies in Nigeria: Report of the Network for Women’s Studies in Nigeria, No. 2 (­Zaria: Network for Women’s Studies in Nigeria, 1997). 2 Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, “­A frican Diasporas and Academics: The Struggle for a Global Epistemic Presence,” in Paul Tiyambe Zeleza (­ed.), The Study of Africa Vol II Global and Transnational Engagements (­Senegal: CODESRIA, 2007), 90. 3 Awe and Mba, “­Women’s Research and Documentation Center (­Nigeria),” 860. 4 Bolanle Awe, “­The Iyalode in the Traditional Yoruba Political System,” in Alice Schlegel (­ed.), In Sexual Stratification: A ­Cross-​­Cultural View (­New York: Colombia University Press, 1977), ­144–​­60. 5 Ronke Olawale, “­Global Feminisms: Comparative Case Studies of Women’s Activism and Scholarship (­Nigeria),” Institute for Research on Women and Gender, University of Michigan, 2017, Retrieved October 31, 2019 at https://­sites.lsa.umich. edu/­g lobalfeminisms/­­w p-​­content/­uploads/­sites/­787/­2020/­10/­Awe_Nigeria_Annotated_Final.pdf, 6 Ibid. 7 Pereira, “­L ocating Gender and Women’s Studies in Nigeria,” 16. 8 Niara Sudarkasa, “­The Status of Women in Indigenous African Societies,” Feminist Studies 12(­1), Spring 1986: 9­ 1–​­103; Jane Parpart and Kathleen Staudt (­eds.), Women and the State in Africa (­Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner, 1989). 9 Kristin Mann, “­Women’s Political Struggle in Nigeria,” The Journal of African History 25(­2), 1984: 233. 10 Simi Afonja, Gender and Feminism in African Development Discourse (­Bloomington: Indiana University, 2005), 7. 11 Ibid., 19 12 See Simi Afonja, “­Changing Modes of Production and the Sexual Division of Labor among the Yoruba,” Signs 7(­2), 1981: 2­ 99–​­313; and Bolanle Awe, “­Reflections on the Conference on Women and Development I,” Signs 3(­1), 1977: ­314–​­16. 13 Pereira, “­L ocating Gender and Women’s Studies in Nigeria?” 4.

234  Folasade Hunsu

14 Bell Hooks (­1989: 43). 15 Pereira, “­L ocating Gender and Women’s Studies in Nigeria?” ­4 –​­5. 16 Bene E. Madunagu, “­The Nigerian Feminist Movement: Lessons from “­Women in Nigeria WIN”,” Review of African Political Economy 35(­118), 2008: ­666–​­72. https://­ wwsw.jstor.org/­stable/­20406565 17 Abiola Odejide, “­Navigating the Seas: Women in Higher Education in Nigeria,” McGill Journal of Education 38(­3), Fall 2003: 453. 18 Olabis I. Aina, “­Mobilizing Nigerian Women for National Development: The Role of the Female Elites,” African Economic History 21, 1993: 17. 19 Pereira, “­L ocating Gender and Women’s Studies in Nigeria?” 5. 20 Amina Mama, “­The Challenges of Feminism: Gender, Ethics and Responsible Academic Freedom in African Universities,” JHEA/­R ESA 9(­1 & 2), 2011: 4. 21 Felicia Ubi Iwara, “­The Impact of the Establishment of Women’s Research and Documentation Centre, University of Ibadan,” European Journal of Research in Social Sciences 6(­3), 2018: 51. 22 Abiola Odejide, “­Profile of Women’s Research and Documentation Centre, Institute of African Studies, University of Ibadan, Nigeria,” Feminist Africa (­1), 2002. Retrieved www.agi.uct.ac.za/­agi/­­feminist-​­a frica/­01 23 Taiwo Makinde, “­Problems of Policy Implementation in Developing Nations: The Nigerian Experience,” Journal of Social Sciences 11(­1), 2005: 65. 24 Amina Mama, “­Feminism or Femocracy? State Feminism and Democratisation in Nigeria,” Africa Development 20(­1), 1995: 41. 25 Bolanle Awe, “­Saviours of Their Societies,” in Bolanle Awe (­ed.), Nigerian Women in Historical Perspective, (­I badan: Sankore/­Bookcraft, 1992), ix. 26 Jerilyn Fisher, “­Women’s Studies without a Women’s Studies Program: The Case of Hostos Community College,” Women’s Studies Quarterly 30(­3/­4), Fall 2002: 100. 27 University of Jos, Centre for Gender and Women’s Studies. 2020. “­Program Outline.” 28 Ibid. 29 Centre for Gender and Social Policy S­ tudies—​­Website of the Centre for Gender and Social Policy Studies, OAU, oauife.edu.ng, 30 Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (­New York: Routledge, 2000), 251. 31 Olutoyin Mejiuni, Women and Power: Education, Religion and Identity (­Senegal: CODESRIA, 2013). 32 Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (­New York: Routledge, 2000), 251. 33 Obioma Nnaemeka, “­­ Nego-​­ Feminism: Theorizing, Practicing, and Pruning Africa’s Way Author,” Signs 29(­ 2), Winter 2004: 363, http://­ w ww.jstor. org/­stable/­10.1086/­378553. 34 Tunde Onadeko, “­Yoruba Traditional Adjudicatory System,” African Study Monographs 29(­1), 2008: 16, https://­doi.org/­10.14989/­66225. 35 Ibid. 36 Aina, “­Mobilizing Nigerian Women for National Development,” and J.A. Ojobo, “­Education: A Catalyst for Women Empowerment in Nigeria,” Ethiopian Journal of Education and Science 4(­1), 2009: ­93–​­108. 37 Oyeronke Olajubu, Women in the Yoruba Religious Sphere (­A lbany: State University of New York Press, 2003), 75. 38 Ibid., 126. 39 Mejiuni, Women and Power: Education, Religion and Identity, ­149–​­52. 40 Ayesha M. Imam, “­ The Muslim Religious Right (‘­ Fundamentalists’) and Sexuality,” 1997. Accessed October 16, 2020, https://­ w ww.oursplatform.org/­­ wp-​ ­content/­uploads/­­W LUML-­​­­Dossier-­​­­17-­​­­Fundamentalists-­​­­a nd-​­Sexuality.pdf; Ayesha M. Imam, “­The Devil is in the Details: At the Nexus of Development, Women’s Rights, and Religious Fundamentalisms,” 2016, Accessed October 16, 2020,

Women’s Studies in Nigeria  235

https://­w ww.awid.org/­­n ews- ­​­­a nd- ​­a nalysis/­­d evil- ­​­­d etails- ­​­­d evelopment-­​­­womens-­​ ­­r ights-­​­­a nd-­​­­religious-​­f undamentalisms; Ayesha M. Imam, “­Women’s Reproductive and Sexual Rights and the Offense of Zina in Muslim Laws in Nigeria,” in Patrick Burnett (­ed.), Grace, Tenacity and Eloquence: The Struggle for Women’s Rights in Africa (­Oxford: Fahamu, 2007), ­136–​­43. 41 Fatima L. Adamu, “­Women’s Struggle and the Politics of Difference in Nigeria,” 2006, 8, http://­web.fu- berlin.de/­g po/­pdf/­t agungen/­f atima_l_adamu.pdf., ­1–​­11. 42 Jonas Akung, “­Feminist Dimensions in Sefi Atta’s Everything Good Will Come,” Studies in Literature and Language 4(­1), 2012: 115. 43 Kalu Wosu and Jane Nnamdi, “­Rescuing the Woman from the Achebean Periphery: The Discourse of Gender and Power in Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, and Akachi ­Adimora-​­Ezeigbo’s The Last of the Strong Ones,” Journal of Gender and Power 12(­2), 2019: 152.

14 “­LIFT EV’RY VOICE AND SING” Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music Michael T. Bertrand

Introduction In 1900, James Weldon Johnson wrote the words to “­Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing” as a poem. Five years later, his brother, John Rosamond Johnson, set the words to music. Written during the jim/­jane crow era, a period that African American historian Rayford Logan dubbed “­the nadir of black life,” it became a song of hope. Endorsed by Booker T. Washington, the NAACP later adopted it as its official song, proclaiming it the “­Negro National hymn.” In 2009, at the first presidential inauguration of Barack Obama, Reverend Joseph Lowery quoted the entire third stanza of the song as the beginning of his benediction. African Americans everywhere appreciated the historical aspects of both the event and the song. It was a means of expression that “­a llows us to acknowledge all of the brutalities and inhumanities and dispossession” associated with black life in the Western Hemisphere, proclaimed musicologist Shana Redmon. “­To sing this song is to revive that ­past—​­but also to recognize, as the lyrics of the song reveal, that there is a hopeful future that might come of it.”1 The history of “­Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing” is a testament to the importance of music in African American life. Given this significance, it is puzzling that academic historians have not devoted more energy to assessing music’s historicity. Samuel Floyd, another musicologist, has noted that diasporal scholarship, focused primarily on history, politics, and “­cultural sociology,” effectively ignores music. As he maintained, “­Music has been treated only slightly and inconsistently, if at all, and always without the kind of depth and analysis that will reveal music’s undiscovered contributions to the diasporal process.” Historian Sterling Stuckey made a similar argument more than a quarter of a century earlier. Pointing to W.E.B. Du Bois, who had proclaimed that “­the gifts of song and brawn were among the greatest contributions of Black people to America,” Stuckey wrote DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-18

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  237

that “­even today, historians have not properly assessed the importance of slave folklore [and music] to slave life and to American culture.”2 Like Stuckey, the following essay points to Du Bois’s focus on the historical significance of music. Echoing Floyd, it likewise wonders why more historians have not followed Du Bois’s lead in revealing “­music’s undiscovered contributions to the diasporal process.”

W.E.B. Du Bois and Harvard: A Troubled Relationship When Andrew Clark arrived at Harvard University in 2010 as the school’s new choral director, he had to oversee several choirs, one of which was the renowned Glee Club. Founded in 1858, the HGC (­Harvard Glee Club), as it is called on campus, is the oldest collegiate glee club in the United States. Its members have included some of the university’s most distinguished alumni. Harvard men such as Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Blackmun, and Leonard Bernstein once were fellows of this brotherhood, a fraternity considered “­a ­fi rst-​­rate representative of Harvard to itself and to willing ears around the globe.” The newly installed Clark soon discovered however that the Glee Club’s legacy did not rest solely on the future luminaries who once sang, but on one of the preeminent graduates of the nation’s oldest institution of higher education who tragically did not. As he learned, William Edward Burghardt Du Bois, who graduated from Harvard in 1890, was not on his list of glee club luminaries.3 A native of the predominantly white town of Great Barrington, Massachusetts, the adolescent Du Bois had excelled as a student. He dreamed of attending Harvard, but failed to gain admission due to a lack of finances, unacceptable high school standards, and a “­lack of enthusiasm” among the college’s benefactors for “­even a brilliant Negro” to gain admittance. It was a situation that Du Bois viewed as provisional, not permanent. He eventually turned southward, matriculating at Fisk in Nashville, Tennessee. There he engaged fully in communal black life for the first time; he also experienced firsthand the southern culture of racial segregation. He quickly ascertained following his return to the North however that racial prejudice and institutionalized discrimination knew no regional boundaries. Upon finally gaining entry to Harvard in 1888, he arrived as a junior rather than a graduate candidate, because the school did not recognize his Fisk degree. According to his biographer, Harvard “­traditionally required African American baccalaureates to repeat a portion of their undergraduate training, a requirement frequently imposed on white graduates of undistinguished colleges.”4 Du Bois would graduate two years later cum laude and start work toward a Master’s and PhD. In 1895, he earned a doctorate under Albert Bushnell Hart. Highly successful in the classroom, Du Bois hesitated to participate in the campus life of Cambridge. He tread carefully on the grounds of the “­g reat institution of learning” that was then nearly 240 years old, avoiding situations that might

238  Michael T. Bertrand

prove racially demeaning. Still, there was one social organization he wanted to join, and it seemed worth the risk: the Glee Club. In his first year, he auditioned for the ­a ll-​­white choir. It summarily turned him down because of his race. It was a painful rejection that the man who lived into his ­n inety-​­fifth year never forgot.5 “­I did have a good singing voice and loved music,” Du Bois recalled in 1960, three years before his death, “­so I entered the competition for the Glee Club. I ought to have known that Harvard could not afford to have a Negro on its Glee Club traveling about the country. Quite naturally I was rejected.”6 Harvard apparently did nothing during Du Bois’s lifetime to help ease the pain of the rebuff that he endured for three quarters of a century. Yet, over 125 years after the demoralizing snub, Clark decided that the institution had a responsibility to reckon with its racist past. “­The wounds he carried throughout his life [are] certainly not one[s] we can heal,” the director told a reporter for the Cambridge Chronicle, the nation’s oldest surviving weekly newspaper. “­We’re trying to certainly account for the history, but more importantly, we’re trying to tell a story and share a message.” By 2015, when the n ­ ow-​­seasoned head of the choral program conceived how the story would be told, there existed a climate of racial awareness that the Black Lives Matter Movement had engendered. Other elite colleges in the country had acknowledged their own racially tarnished traditions. Harvard followed suit by addressing its “­t roubled relationship” with Du Bois. The forum chosen to address the wrong that the world’s ­h ighest-​­ranked university infamously had done to its first African American doctoral recipient was one that the acclaimed intellectual, author, and civil rights advocate would have appreciated: a Glee Club performance entitled “­The Legacy of W.E.B. Du Bois.” As Clark explained, the concert “­g ives us a chance to pay tribute to him through an experience that was close to his heart.” 7 The concert, which took place on March 2, 2019, did more than honor a man who loved to sing or whose Harvard sojourn had been marred by racial prejudice. It also highlighted a scholar who took music seriously, a visionary unencumbered by disciplinary boundaries or categories. As one observer noted at the sesquicentennial of Du Bois’s birth in 2018, this ultimate race man “­examined the American and global injustices of his age” through every lens possible. “­It is hard to think of a tool available to him that he did not use during his long life.” Clark, who for several years following his appointment delved into Du Bois’s biography and engaged in discussions and audited classes with Cornel West and Henry Louis Gates, knowingly stated upon the concert’s opening: “­Music is such a big part of Du Bois’ work, and he consider[ed] music as a vehicle for transformation, reconciliation, defiance, and resistance.”8 The “­Legacy” concert navigated this sonic avenue. It followed a format based on The Souls of Black Folk, a classic 1903 collection of Du Bois essays. Each chapter of the book began with a headnote that included an excerpt from both a musical notation of a black spiritual and the verses of a European poem, a method the concert reproduced. According to the event’s program:

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  239

By placing these two texts s­ide-­​­­by-​­side, Du Bois calls on his readers to recognize [that] the two traditions are artistic equals and to consider how, in putting the texts into conversation with each other, [they] can expose the deeper resonances in each. The result was a “­stunning” presentation of African American spirituals and European literature. According to reports, audience members, during the performance, “­sat silently as if entranced.” Students in attendance called it “­­thought-​ ­provoking.” One sophomore, studying history, said the music was excellent and that the “­conversations” between the texts had emotionally and intellectually moved her.9 Richard Crawford, a musicologist, once wrote that “­music is not a subject that many scholars of the past have taken seriously, unless they happen to be ­musicologists—​­specialists in the art of music.” Du Bois was no “­specialist in the art of music,” but he did recognize that music moved people. He did take it seriously. As he wrote of slavery in 1903, Du Bois stressed that music embodied a crucial means to access the thoughts of people historically denied a voice: “­I  know little of music and can say nothing in technical phrase, but I know something of men and knowing them, I know that these songs are the articulate message of the slave to the world.”10 At least for one night, the sounds emanating from Memorial Church on the Harvard campus remind us that one of Du Bois’s many legacies that he holds for those who study history is that black music matters. Yet, unfortunately, the audience’s seemingly astonished response to Du Bois’s merging of music and history in some ways refute the message, intimating that the connection is not an obvious one. It suggests, from the perspective of many in attendance, that such a combination rarely has been imagined. The burden of this unfamiliarity necessarily falls on historians and raises a philosophical issue that is analogous to the question about trees falling in an uninhabited forest: If academic historians do not acknowledge it as a serious topic, does music make a sound? Or does it merely reverberate as an inconsequential memory that fades into the distance, essentially treated and forgotten as ephemera? Specifically, it leaves one to wonder: To the official gatekeepers and interpreters of the past, does music really matter?

Music and History Music and History. Du Bois understood that each complemented the other. Like the history major at Harvard who sat enthralled at the “­Legacy of W.E.B. Du Bois” program, I, too, am moved by his perspective. As a historian of the American South interested in how popular music may have existed as a “­species of fundamental social action”—​­in short, how music was a crucial item in a person’s cultural tool box used to navigate everyday ­l ife—​­I have learned much from those who write seriously on the subject, including representatives from academic disciplines such as Africana Studies, American Studies, English, Ethnomusicology,

240  Michael T. Bertrand

Folklore, and Sociology, along with members of the print media. Indeed, numerous journalists, record ­collectors-­​­­t urned-​­w riters, musicologists, and academicians have enriched our understanding of music’s role in the daily lives of African Americans.11 Given the barrels of ink spilled on the subject as well as a lifelong interest in understanding its connection to human experience and expression, I particularly have been sensitive to the way academic historians incorporate music into their interpretations of the southern past. What appears evident is that they frequently treat music as if it existed on the periphery of everyday life, a sentimental souvenir best left in the attic among other personal yet ultimately inconsequential mementoes. Such an approach necessarily removes music from its historical environment and situates it within a vacuum, where it predictably retains little meaning except as trivia. This particularly has been true regarding the historical evaluation of popular music or music that is produced for a market. That this tendency has been so enduring is perplexing. Nevertheless, as one member of the discipline recently noted, generations of historians especially have “­ignored any reference to popular entertainment on the grounds that it was unimportant fluff, a distraction from the serious and significant.”12 For black and white southerners, music was far from trivial; it amplified otherwise unheard and unheeded voices calling for attention. This was as true for music produced for a market or “­by the folk.” Each grouping requires stringent analysis, albeit of a different sort. For, as Bill Malone has argued, both types of music provided a necessary counterbalance to the ­top-​­down direction of hierarchical societies like the American South. The many powerless inhabitants of the region could access music no matter how economically or politically disenfranchised they may have been. West African and British musical traditions, along with ethnic variations in assorted geographical pockets, thus took root in a land where the majority of its adherents regularly comprehended their world and their relationship to it through the songs they sang, played, or consumed. Music represented a vital means by which they articulated human strengths, frailties, hopes, sorrows, joys, and failings. Actor and activist Ossie Davis expressed perfectly the meaning of music in a society that “­throwed away” people: “­A rt was at one time the only voice we had to declare our humanity.”13 It could be argued that a quintessential characteristic defining a southerner has been a reliance on music as a vital means of expression. This seems to be the opinion of observers both near and far. History has shown, for instance, that many of the musical genres that have taken the world by storm originated with ­working-​­class black and white southerners. Ragtime, blues, jazz, country, gospel, ­honky-​­tonk, rhythm and blues, rockabilly, rock ‘­n’ roll, and soul, for instance, have garnered followers and fans measured in global dimensions. This is not a coincidence. Southern “­roots music” has exhibited a distinctive ability to express emotions that are universal in nature, namely feelings about the individual’s relationship to self, to others, to the larger community, and to their creator. In short, to reiterate Davis’s point, music provided a means to declare

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  241

one’s humanity. That the region’s inhabitants may have created songs and styles whose appeal crossed the “­color line” speaks to this truth. It speaks to the fact that similar conditions and concerns linked people, even while societal barriers kept them apart. Significantly, music provides a conduit to recognize that these ­often-​­overlooked linkages reflect a common humanity. This is not to argue that music is a flawless medium or that it should be considered the central theme of southern history. It is to assert however that music’s enduring relevance requires that it be granted a place closer to the center of southern historiography. Music, after all, as Charles Joyner once proclaimed, confirms the region’s greatest historical legacy: “­That the South has been and will remain a multicultural mix of European and African elements.”14 The phraseology used by Joyner, of course, refers to Ulrich Bonnell Phillips, a ­Georgia-​­born and Ivy ­League-​­trained historian generally recognized as the “­putative founder of southern history as a field of study.” In 1928, Phillips argued that the central theme of southern history revolved around the certainty that “­the South shall be and remain a white man’s country.” Joyner’s allusion to a “­multicultural mix” serves as a necessary corrective to Phillips’s tribal exclusivity; in addition, it also hints at a tension inherent in the earlier historian’s ostensibly enduring conflation of regional identity with white supremacy. For those who chart the interrelationship between popular musical and societal trends, it is this tension that often has been most palpable, a push and pull tug along racial lines that calls into question the cultural efficacy of the region’s segregationist policies. This is not to argue that music magically negated racist realities or obliterated structural racism. Nor does it claim that shared traditions of musical performance and consumption erased the “­color line.” It does, however, give us pause as to how we understand the southern past. The insertion of issues that revolve around phonograph recordings, radio airplay, online song streaming, or similar activities indeed may alter existing interpretations of the region. And central to any revision along such lines necessarily would focus on the music associated with African Americans. For, without the contributions of black southerners, there is no southern music, at least not in the forms that have proven to be so influential. As Du Bois declared of the “­Negro folk song” in 1924, “­It has been neglected, it has been persistently mistaken and misunderstood; but notwithstanding, it still remains as the singular spiritual heritage of the nation and the greatest gift of the Negro people.”15

Historians and Music Whether academic historians who address the African Diaspora have taken music as seriously as Du Bois is difficult to discern. Given the ubiquity of music as it relates to the black experience in the United States, and particularly in the American South, it would seem absurd to argue that those who have given African Americans serious historical consideration have failed to consider musical contexts or manifestations. Can anyone imagine the black freedom struggle without

242  Michael T. Bertrand

freedom songs? Is it possible to consider church without “­hearing” congregants clapping, shouting, and harmonizing? Are portrayals of slavery so still that they tune out the echoes of African American sorrow songs and spirituals that resound from the plantation? Surely not. Yet such questions barely scratch the surface of any survey chronicling music’s pervasive presence within African American communities, a scenario which suggests that only to the most inattentive would music seem tangential, trivial, or nonexistent.16 Historians, as a rule, are not inattentive. Neither have they been impervious to melodic reverberations. True, the discipline has not always placed musical episodes under rigorous historical analysis. Yet there are members of the profession who have treated songs and affiliated activities as relevant artifacts. Most significantly, getting in tune with music’s pervasive presence has allowed several historians to enter the world of the West African griot. Griots (­a nd griottes, their female counterparts) have existed in West Africa since at least the thirteenth century. They were products of specific local and historical circumstances that cannot transcend time or space. Nevertheless, the “­West African bard” has morphed into a universal concept meaning “­t raditional verbal artist.” I would like to apply this expanded characterization of the griot to our discussion of historians who are sensitive to the larger impact that songs and their performers and audiences have had in society. After all, griots were “­m asters of words and music” who served their communities by “­keeping the past alive.”17 Traditionally, griots were members of a hereditary social class. They were tied to wealthy patrons for whom they would chronicle the history of families and villages. Living in a preliterate society where orality provided the basis for communication, they presented their information in the spoken form of stories and songs. Accordingly, they had extraordinary powers of recollection and ample musical talent. The tasks they performed required multifaceted roles. They served in part as storytellers, historians, genealogists, entertainers, composers, lyricists, poets, teachers, orators, messengers, and interpreters. They were expected to carry out other functions as well. Indeed, the griot did many things, “­but most of all a griot remembers.”18 What stands out about the griot is an approach that emphasized a lack of boundaries. Their power, like that of different forms of black music, lies in their adaptability. They were “­interdisciplinary” long before the concept became fashionable. It is this tendency that those historians who take music seriously seem to reflect. This does not mean that they have become troubadours or “­m asters of words and music.” Rather, it means that they are sensitive to a form of expression, largely aural, that many people have utilized. And this receptiveness places them more within the larger community than outside or above it. Like griots, they are engaged in the “­preservation of a people’s history.” Such historians are “­artisans of the spoken word.” They may write their histories, but they listen aurally to their subjects. They may not tell their stories to music, but many of the stories they tell often are of music or they are rooted in music.19

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  243

A sampling of autobiographical reflections, for instance, reveals that music frequently has left an enduring imprint on many in the historical profession. The most obvious example perhaps is Du Bois in The Souls of Black Folks: “­The songs are indeed the siftings of centuries; the music is far more ancient than the words, and in it we can trace here and there signs of development. My grandfather’s ­g rand-​­mother was seized by an evil Dutch trader two centuries ago; and coming to the valleys of the Hudson and Housatonic, black, little, and lithe, she shivered and shrank in the harsh north winds, looking longingly at the hills, and often crooned a heathen melody to the child between her knees, thus: Do ­ba-​­na ­co-​­ba, ­ge-​­ne me, ­ge-​­ne me! Do ­ba-​­na ­co-​­ba, ­ge-​­ne me, ­ge-​­ne me! Ben d’ ­nu-​­l i, ­nu-​­l i, ­nu-​­l i, ­nu-​­l i, ben d’ le” Du Bois resumed: The child sang it to his children and they to their children’s children, and so two hundred years it has travelled down to us and we sing it to our children, knowing as little as our fathers what its words may mean, but knowing well the meaning of its music.20 A ­modern-​­day griotte elaborated upon Du Bois. The meaning of songs, she said, does not come simply from the words. Meaning stems from a feeling created by the voice and music together. “­The most beautiful thing about our music is that you don’t need to understand the words in order to understand the language of a song.” For at least one historian, who has assessed the work of Du Bois, such a characterization corresponded to the Great Barrington native’s style, suggesting that the author and music were somehow united: “­It’s deeply lyrical, but not just lyrical in the sense that he had, sort of, beautiful language,” Ibram X. Kendi observed. “­It’s lyrical in the sense that he was able to really capture the complexities and multiplicities of life.”21 Like the griot, Du Bois thought musically, a ­g reat-​­grandmother’s melodious voice ringing in his ears. Other historians dedicated to understanding the South by examining its music followed similar paths, although they were not necessarily identical. Bill Malone, for instance, was raised on a played out east Texas cotton tenant farm, and he embarked on a celebrated journey to write the history of his ­working-​­class community’s music, the sound of his mother singing past the loneliness and frustration of their lives forever etched in his memory. Or there is Robin Kelley, an eclectic scholar whose interdisciplinary approach to black life at the grassroots stemmed from growing up in a Harlem household absorbed with modern jazz. As he reflected much later, after failing to subdue the p­ iano—​ ­summoned from the ancestors, Thelonius Monk appeared to him in a dream and declared, “­You’re making the wrong mistakes”—​­did Kelley opt to strike a different keyboard and evoke what he heard and thought “­in words, not music.”22

244  Michael T. Bertrand

And then there is the case of Carl Wittke, a leading scholar of immigration and author of more than a dozen books. Wittke reminisced in Tambo and Bones, a work on blackface minstrelsy published in 1930, that his youthful exposure to minstrel shows had fostered a permanent interest in African American life and culture. It may be difficult to fathom how greasepaint and burnt cork inspired anything authentic, but Wittke was nothing if not sincere. His experience indeed forces us to grapple with a troubling historical aspect of African American music. Obviously, blackface minstrelsy did not reflect black culture as it truly existed. True, many African American blackface performers in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries attempted to alter the form from within, to make it less disparaging of black people. In the end, however, blackface minstrelsy left a permanent stain that society still is trying to remove.23 Unfortunately, it is the pervasive and enduring influence of blackface minstrelsy that forces us to address it. Speaking during a symposium on autobiography and the writing of history, the prominent southern historian George Tindall began with a lengthy discourse regarding jim crow’s long career in show business. As he finally launched into the details of his own life, the William Rand Kenan, Jr., Professor Emeritus at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill provided the rationale for his somewhat circuitous introduction. Whether engaged by Vaudeville shows, radio, or motion pictures, inhabitants of the late nineteenth and first half of the twentieth centuries, he insisted, lived under the shadow of blackface minstrelsy. Few were immune to the larger messages that such entertainment contained and conveyed; they infiltrated, sometimes overtly and sometimes through stealth or fortuitously, the thoughts and attitudes of everyone, historians included. Acknowledging the other panelists, Tindall reiterated his point, ostensibly scoffing at the notion of a remote Ivory Tower situated safely above and beyond the currents of popular culture and music: “­It was into such a world that most southerners, indeed most Americans, were born.”24 Tindall’s counsel, appropriately couched in a paper entitled “­Jumping Jim Crow,” reminds us that the historian’s perception of the past represents a process of remembering that is grounded in the present, a present tacitly immersed in popular music and culture. This becomes evident as we examine the stories of other historians who have addressed black music. George Lipsitz, who never intended to be a scholar of popular music, nevertheless understood that music has “­a lways been part of [my] d­ ay-­​­­to-​­day living.” He translated his personal investment in popular music into numerous analyses of w ­ orking-​­class culture, memory, and racial identity, focusing particularly on jazz, rhythm and blues, soul, and hip hop. Likewise, British historian Brian Ward’s work on rhythm and blues and African American radio has expanded our understanding of the Black Freedom Struggle. As he recounts, “­I’m a ­media-​­popular culture brat, so no matter how hard I try, I rarely escape working on music and the media for long.” Fellow Brit Paul Gilroy, before highlighting music in works such as The Black Atlantic: Modernity and ­D ouble-​­Consciousness and There Ain’t No Black

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  245

in the Union Jack, aspired to a professional performing career. As he told an interviewer: Before I became an academic, I was a musician and when I wasn’t sure I’d ever get a job as an academic I, well in fact I never gave up that hope, when I was a PhD student I was still you know flirting with music… Relying on “­the sound tracks of my adolescence recirculating,” the “­sometime guitar player,” who moonlighted as a leading historian, fastened his scholarship to a mantra associated with famed music man Quincy Jones: “­The times are always contained in the rhythm.”25 A product of the late twentieth century, Jeffrey O.G. Ogbar recalls that “­­hip-​ ­hop was the music backdrop to my life since elementary school.” Like many of his contemporaries, he tried his hand at breakdancing and rapping, but realized, somewhat like Robin Kelley earlier, that “­keeping it real” might work better in the library and classroom than it would in the studio and the streets. “­I was less than a decent rapper,” he concedes. His academic work on contextualizing ­h ip-​­hop, however, demonstrates perhaps where his true talents lie. And then there is Lawrence Levine, whose exceptional explorations into folk and popular expression appreciably bridged the disciplines of history and music. Raised in a New York City Eastern European Jewish immigrant family, the author of Black Culture and Black Consciousness recalled that his “­chief forays into the larger American culture came through frequenting jazz clubs in the late 1940s” and that the “­innovative music” of performers such as Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, and Dizzy Gillespie “­became a central part of my own cultural world.” Reflecting on the acculturative role of popular music, Levine merged the personal with the historical: “­I was not alone.” Indeed, he was not. Angela Davis, who spent the first fifteen years of her life in Birmingham, recalled an adolescent move to New York, where “­I could look forward to exploring a whole new cultural universe.” Absorbing the music of jazz women, “­the more I realized that their music could serve as a rich terrain for examining a historical feminist consciousness that reflected the lives of ­working-​­class black communities.”26 A reflective cognizance of popular music pushed scholars such as Malone, Kelley, Wittke, Lipsitz, Ward, Gilroy, Ogbar, Levine, and Davis to devote at least part of their careers to exploring the relationship between expressive culture, the performing arts, and historical analysis. As they recognized in their own lives, music represented an experience that provided a “­textured and nuanced understanding of life.” The experience, of course, was variable and did not necessarily compel all members of the guild to publish a musical monograph or engage in sustained musical scholarship. The failure to engage it directly, however, did not deny music’s facility as an influential stimulus. John Hope Franklin, for instance, produced no specific books on the subject, but wrote in retrospect of a “­lifelong love of music.” Interestingly, one of the more formative experiences of his life, an incident he recalled with remorse some seventy years later and which certainly

246  Michael T. Bertrand

influenced his scholarly pursuits, centered on his attending an opera performed in the segregated confines of a Tulsa, Oklahoma, convention hall. This memory, though, competed with another in which he had sought to emulate a l­ittle-​ k­ nown yet rapidly rising jazz musician he encountered at a dance held for African Americans in the same city. Franklin and several of his teenage friends had gone to hear Louis Armstrong, braced with warnings from his parents “­to stay clear of persons who were drinking, arguing, or tending toward violence.”27 Like Franklin’s mother and father, C. Vann Woodward, too, alluded to the jazz environs of his youth with an air of disapproval, a space “­relegated to the unconscious by the proper young white intellectual.” Yet, as an inquisitive college student in Atlanta who sought to learn all that he could inside and outside of the classroom, Woodward acknowledged that jazz “­was part of the scene nevertheless.” Darlene Clark Hine, born four years prior to the publication of Woodward’s classic Origins of the New South (­1951), revealed that cultural and intellectual snobbery, while alive and well in academia, still had its limits; the groundbreaking historian of African American women maintained that music served as a significant catalyst in shaping her personal identity and scholarly worldview. And Leon Litwack, a s­elf-​­professed popular music “­fan” who regularly brought his avocational pursuits to the classroom, emphasized that such “­d iversions” provided a key to unlocking the past. Echoing Du Bois and griots past and present, Litwack declared, “­I like the mix of history and literature and music. They all do fit together and complement each other. They’re all part of the American experience.”28 Perhaps no one stood taller on the intellectual shoulders of Du Bois when it came to placing music and history within the same historical tapestry than Sterling Stuckey. Distinguished Professor of History and holder of the Presidential Chair at the University of ­California-​­Riverside and the ­award-​­winning author of Slave Culture: Nationalist Theory and the Foundations of Black America, Stuckey, early on in his career, argued for a more holistic approach to examinations of the black experience. He sought to bring about various cultural and expressive intersections, including those of orality, poetry, blues, jazz, and spirituals, specifically emphasizing that music and dance were important aspects of slavery and black life that historians had long ignored. It was a focus he attributed to his adolescence (­and a later friendship with Paul Robeson). He recalled that from a very young age, “­he was never more at home than when standing near the stage, whether in Memphis or Chicago, when jazz musicians played.”29 Born in Memphis in 1932, Stuckey and his family were part of one of the many ­t wentieth-​­century migrations of African Americans from the South to the North. They landed in the “­Black Metropolis” of Chicago in 1945. It was his recollections of the Friday night student dances that he attended in both Memphis and Chicago that led to Stuckey’s pioneering contemplations of the Ring Shout, a West African practice in which dancers moved in a counterclockwise circle. Transplanted to the Western Hemisphere during the African diaspora, the ring shout served as a unifying ritual that connected people to their past as well as

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  247

to each other. As Stuckey argued, the elements of rhythm and c­ all-­​­­and-​­response singing associated with the ring shout went on to form the foundation of jazz, gospel and the blues, Significantly, it demonstrated not only how African culture had survived the Atlantic slave trade, but also how such cultural and musical echoes went on to influence the larger mainstream culture of the United States and the world.30 In addition to showing how slavery had not destroyed African culture, Stuckey’s focus on music also demonstrated that song analysis could provide access to the innermost thoughts of those enslaved. Critiquing U.B. Phillips, the acknowledged “­expert” on slavery whose scholarship on the subject dominated the first half of the twentieth century, for instance, Stuckey suggested that the older historian’s refusal or inability to listen without bias to song lyrics undermined his credibility. It prevented him from appreciating “­the horror of the experience that slaves transmuted to song.” Stuckey noted that Phillips believed that the stereotypical character of African Americans had remained unchanged from the sixteenth through the twentieth centuries. He quoted at length from Phillips’s American Negro Slavery—​­“­The negroes themselves show the same ­easy-​­going, amiable, ­serio-​­comic obedience and the same personal attachments to white men, as well as the same sturdy lightheartedness and the same love of laughter and of rhythm, which distinguished their forbears”—​­and justifiably concluded that such a historian never truly listened to what the slaves had to say: “­Oh, by and by, by and by, I’m gonna lay down dis heaby load. Oh, by and by, by and by, I’m gonna lay down my heaby loady. I know my robe’s gwinna fit me well, I’m gonna lay down my heaby load. I tried it on at the gates of hell, I’m gonna lay down dis heaby load…” d isregard for the feelings Unfortunately, as Stuckey ascertained, Phillips’s “­ of African Americans [as expressed through music] was emblematic of the discipline.”31 While Stuckey’s dismay at the discipline’s general disregard of music as a gauge to measure the feelings and sentiments of African Americans was directed at an earlier era, the issue nevertheless remains an issue today. As two scholars intent on bridging the disciplines of music and history, recently asked, “­W hy haven’t historians and musicologists been talking to one another?” They conceded that significant obstacles stand in the way of studying music in its historical contexts. One difficulty has to do with historians taking music seriously as a legitimate voice. Lawrence Levine, for instance, has argued that many “­t raditional scholars” often have adhered to the “­a ssumption that expressive culture and the performing arts had little to contribute to our knowledge of ourselves as a people and a

248  Michael T. Bertrand

nation and need not concern the scholarly historian.” Citing his own views upon entering the academy, Levine acknowledged that he initially had adopted some of those same “­comfortable assumptions” that casually marginalized music. He ascribed his eventual reclamation of a jazz cadence and consciousness to reaching professional maturity in the 1960s and 1970s, “­when the field of cultural history as we understand it” came to fruition. Combined with his own personal and intellectual pursuits, the larger academic reformation encouraged Levine to return to his cultural and musical roots. As he recounted, “­I was the product of a process that I certainly was not aware of and that I had to rediscover.”32 Unlike Levine, Sterling Stuckey never had to “­rediscover” the scholarly importance of his musical and cultural roots. A direct academic descendant, so to speak, of Du Bois (­a great aunt who knew Du Bois arranged a meeting between the then ­t wenty-­​­­five-­​­­year-​­old admiring graduate student and his hero at the sage’s home in Brooklyn), Stuckey was adamant about finding a way to get inside the heads and hearts of those enslaved. Music proved to be one such avenue, a path few historians traveled or trusted. Yet despite blazing new trails that some within the profession eventually followed, the field as a whole did not unconditionally embrace his perspective. For the discipline, music remained relegated on the sidelines. Long after the publication of his foundational article in the Massachusetts Review, “­Through the Prism of Folklore: The Black Ethos in Slavery,” for instance, Levine remarked to Stuckey: “­Sterling, it must have taken a lot of courage for you to have written it.” Stuckey responded in a way that the idiosyncratic and nonconformist Du Bois surely would have appreciated, “­Reflecting back to life in Memphis and Chicago, it took no courage at all just as it took no courage to learn to breathe or speak. It was the stuff of life in the African American community.”33 Nonconformity and the willingness to blaze trails into known territory unfamiliar only to those outside of it, however, generally have not changed the traditional historical narrative regarding historians and music. This rigidity may be due to another significant obstacle that hinders the bridging of the disciplines: the belief by historians that a technical expertise in reading and performing ­music—​­the “­musicality” of ­music—​­is necessary if they want to address it seriously as a historical topic. Added to this is the trepidation to venture into a Cultural Studies field that utilizes theoretical suppositions in its interpretations of popular music production and consumption. A lack of familiarity with music and culture theories that musicologists and other scholars spend their careers mastering is an impediment that may cause many historians “­to leave music alone and choose to examine other subjects.” This is unfortunate.34

W.E.B. Du Bois and Music W.E.B. Du Bois was an exceptional scholar. He left no stones unturned, no questions unasked. As a historian untrained in the theories of musicologists, he nevertheless approached musical culture as an invaluable historical artifact. Asking

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  249

himself about black music in the Western Hemisphere, “­W hat are these songs, and what do they mean?,” he conceded at the turn of the twentieth century that “­I know little of music and can say nothing in technical phrase.” Yet he went on to provide a sketch that has proven to be quite prescient. His analysis serves as a model that has informed musicologists and historians alike well into the t­ wenty-​ ­fi rst century. Charting the American evolution of black folk music or “­the Sorrow Songs,” Du Bois identified four steps in the process: the arrival of African music, the development of ­A fro-​­American music, the blending of “­Negro music with the music heard in the foster land [in which] the elements are both Negro and Caucasian,” and a white American music “­d istinctively influenced” by the songs and styles of African Americans. While outwardly straightforward, the progression, as Du Bois warned his readers, could easily be misread. His advice again has proven to be enduring: “­Side by side, too, with the growth has gone the debasements and imitations…a mass of music in which the novice may easily lose himself and never find the real Negro melodies.”35 When it came to music, Du Bois was no novice. He may not have been a “­specialist in the art of music,” but he was sensitive to music’s influence in all areas of life. Music certainly had been influential in his own emotional and intellectual development. His love for music, for instance, did not diminish following the 1888 HGC rejection. In Cambridge, he continued his musical education, albeit in relative isolation. As a graduate student, he later traveled to Europe, having received a fellowship to study at the University of Berlin. Prior to entering the University, Du Bois spent seven weeks in Eisenach to immerse himself in German conversation and learn the language. Eisenach was the birthplace of Johann Sebastian Bach, home to the t­welfth-​­century Wartburg Castle and the small town where Martin Luther had resided while translating the New Testament from Greek to German. According to his biographer David Levering Lewis, Du Bois thoroughly enjoyed his extended stay in the historic central German community: “­He found Eisenach glorious, worshipping in the simple church in the square where Luther had preached [and] mastering the libretto of Tannhäuser…”36 Tannhäuser is an 1845 Romantic opera in three acts by Richard Wagner. It recounts the heartbreaking story of the legendary Tannhäuser, a celebrated medieval German Minnesänger and poet who lived between 1245 and 1265. (­Interestingly, it seems that Minnesängers were tied to court and performed a similar role that griots played in West Africa, that of providing political, moral, and religious songs and poems.) In Wagner’s hands, the legend takes on mythical and supernatural proportions. Tannhäuser is the ultimate “­outsider,” a ­m instrel-​ ­k night who longs for the favors of a goddess and the love of a mortal woman. Events that transpire at a renowned song contest held at the Wartburg Castle seal his fate. He tragically loses both the goddess and the woman, and realizes that he has no place in the world of the gods and does not fit within the world of mortals. Like many of Wagner’s operatic characters, Tannhäuser, as Christopher Brooks argues, “­deals with Sterm und Drang (­storm and stress) dualities,” a situation that

250  Michael T. Bertrand

“­Du Bois may have viewed as some manifestation of double consciousness.” Significantly, Wagner’s Tannhäuser is both artist and outcast.37 That Du Bois spent a large part of his time in Eisenach attending operas, symphony concerts, and “­m astering the libretto of Tannhäuser” may be noteworthy. Four years earlier, of course, the HGC had rejected his candidacy. Nearly fifty years later, he wrote of the slight in a tone that indicated he still suffered from the pain that it had induced: “­My voice was better than the average. The glee club listened to it but I was not chosen a member. It posed the later recurring problem of a ‘­n igger’ on the team.” Two pages later in his autobiography, Du Bois acknowledged the alienation of his Cambridge experience, and in doing so, brought up music once again: “­I was in Harvard but not of it and realized all the irony of ‘­Fair Harvard’ (­the school’s alma mater). I sang it because I liked the music.”38 One has to wonder if his emphasis on “­m astering the libretto of Tannhäuser” while in Eisenach represented not only a personal response to recent experiences of racial discrimination, but perhaps a larger exercise in constructing a philosophy that addressed the “­problem of the color line.” As he would write in The Souls of Black Folk: It is a peculiar sensation, this d­ ouble-​­consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his ­t wo-​­ness,—​­an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. This is not to suggest that Tannhäuser represented the sole component in Du Bois’s conception of “­double consciousness.” Music, however, may have played a major role. As editor of the student newspaper, the Fisk Herald, this “­enraptured member” of the Mozart Society, who also relished the spirituals of the Jubilee Singers, penned an editorial that praised the attainment of European classical techniques: “­Our race, but a quarter of a century removed from slavery, can master the greatest musical compositions.” His relationship to both African American spirituals and European classical music seemingly indicated a “­double musical consciousness.” Nonmusical sources, of course, also were available. Intellectual and medical trends that focused on this theme were evident, beginning in the ­m id-​­1840s. William James, one of Du Bois’s primary mentors at Harvard, focused on the concept from a psychological perspective and it is highly likely that the student was familiar with his professor’s work. It is possible that perhaps they even had discussed it.39 The focus on Tannhäuser and music in general as influencing Du Bois’s conception of double consciousness, therefore, is not to argue for its exclusivity. Such an argument would defy the message of inclusion that resonated with the HGC tribute concert. The concert honored a man who employed every means

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  251

necessary to understand his world. Du Bois, who knew little of music in a technical or theoretical sense yet addressed it nonetheless, serves as a model for historians who hesitate to consider music as one of many keys available to unlock the doors of the past. His life and work and that of those who have followed him demonstrate that attention to music can provide meaningful insights regarding the larger world in which we live. Indeed, as the “­Legacy of W.E.B Du Bois” concert reiterated, black music has always mattered.

Conclusion Historians traditionally have “­a ssigned marginal status” to musical forms of all types, from classical to folk to pop. They often find the music less significant than other means of expression, although it could be argued that it is lack of accessibility that is the real culprit. What the above essay has demonstrated is that a relatively handful of historians, led by W.E. B. Du Bois, has tackled musical issues despite having no formal expertise in the field. They did so because music had played a formidable role in their own lives. Utilizing music as a primary source, such historians acted as ­modern-​­day griots. Unencumbered by various boundaries, they were engaged in the “­preservation of a people’s history.”40

Notes 1 On Rayford Logan and the phrase “­nadir of black life,” see Rayford Logan, The Betrayal of the Negro: From Rutherford B. Hayes to Woodrow Wilson (­New York: Collier Books, 1965, rev. ed.); Kenneth Robert Janken, Rayford W. Logan and the Dilemma of the African American Intellectual (­A mherst: The University of Massachusetts Press, 1993), i. Professor Redmon’s quotation can be found in Claudette ­Lindsay-​­Habermann, “­Till Victory Is Won: The Staying Power Of ‘­Lift Every Voice And Sing,’” NPR, American Anthem: Music that Challenges, Unites, and Celebrates, August 16, 2018, https://­w ww. npr.org/­2018/­08/­16/­638324920/­­a merican-­​­­a nthem-­​­­l ift- ­​­­every-­​­­voice-­​­­a nd- ­​­­sing-­​­­black-­​ ­­national-​­a nthem, accessed February 25, 2019. 2 For the first quotation, see Samuel A. Floyd, “­Black Music and Writing Black Music History,” Black Music Research Journal 28, 2008: 18. The second quotation can be found in Sterling Stuckey, “­Slavery and the Building of America,” in John Henrik Clark and Vincent Harding (­eds.), Slave Trade and Slavery (­New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1970), 101. 3 ­First-​­rate representative quotation can be found in Bernard Kreger, “­H istory,” Harvard Glee Club Homepage, https://­harvardgleeclub.org/, accessed March 4, 2019. On Clark’s becoming Harvard’s choral director, see Nicholas T. Rinehart, “­Clark Foresees Noteworthy Year Ahead,” The Harvard Crimson, September 21, 2010, https://­ www.thecrimson.com/­a rticle/­2010/­9/­21/­­clark-­​­­choral-­​­­choirs-​­m arvin/, accessed March 4, 2019. 4 For the “­lack of enthusiasm” and “­even brilliant Negro” quotations, see David Levering Lewis, W.E.B. Du Bois: Biography of a Race, 1 ­ 868–​­1919 (­New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1993), 54. For the quotation concerning African American baccalaureates, see Lewis, W.E.B. Du Bois, 82. 5 For the “­g reat institution of learning” characterization, see W.E.B. Du Bois, “­A Negro Student at Harvard at the End of the 19th Century,” The Massachusetts Review 1, Spring 1960: 439.

252  Michael T. Bertrand

6 Du Bois, “­A Negro Student at Harvard,” 441. 7 Both Clark quotations can be found in Camille Mojica, “­A fter Rejecting Him Over a Century Ago, Harvard Glee Club Honors W.E.B. Du Bois,” Cambridge Chronicle, March 11, 2019, https://­cambridge.wickedlocal.com/­news/­20190311/­­a fter-­​ ­­rejecting-­​­­h im-­​­­over-­​­­century-­​­­ago-­​­­harvard-­​­­g lee-­​­­club-­​­­honors-­​­­web-­​­­du-​­bois, accessed March 15, 2019. The characterization, “­t roubled relationship” can be found in Jessica Glenza, “­Harvard Choir that Shunned W.E.B. Du Bois to Honor Black Activist,” The Guardian, March 2, 2019, https://­w ww.theguardian.com/­education/­2019/­m ar/­ 02/­­web-­​­­du-­​­­bois-­​­­harvard-­​­­g lee-­​­­club-​­concert, accessed March 4, 2019. For the Black Lives Matter movement and the racial situation at elite universities, see Gabriela Thorne, “­For Students of Color, Ivy League Schools Have a Long Way to Go,” The Nation, January 25, 2018, https://­w ww.thenation.com/­a rticle/­­for-­​­­students-­​­­of-­​­­color-­​ i­­ vy-­​­­league-­​­­schools-­​­­have-­​­­a-­​­­long-­​­­way-­​­­to-​­go/, accessed March 4, 2019. 8 The first two quotations are from Cornell William Brooks, “­W.E.B. Du Bois Offers Lessons to this Generation of Citizen Activists,” Boston Globe, February 23, 2018, https://­w ww.bostonglobe.com/­o pinion/­2 018/­0 2/­2 3/­­b ois- ­​­­ o ffers- ­​­­ l essons- ­​­­ t his-­​ ­­generation-­​­­citizen-​­activists/­Grzxw0bwxRr3Q08JeSv8WN/­story.html, accessed March 4, 2019. Brooks is a former president of the NAACP. Clark is quoted in Manisha ­Aggarwal-​­Schifellite, “­Glee Club to honor W.E.B. Du Bois,” The Harvard Gazette, February 27, 2019, https://­news.harvard.edu/­g azette/­story/­2019/­02/­­harvard-­​­­g lee-­​ ­­club-­​­­honors-­​­­w-­​­­e -­​­­b -­​­­du-​­bois/, accessed March 4, 2019. 9 The program: “­The Legacy of W.E.B. Du Bois,” Harvard Glee Club, Saturday, March 2, 2019, Memorial Church, featuring guest artist Tesfa Wondemagegnehu, http://­ harvardgleeclub.org/­blog/­2019/­02/­16/­dubois/, accessed March 4, 2019. Both quotations from concert goers about the program can be found in Mojica, “­Harvard Glee Club Honors W.E.B. Du Bois.” 10 Richard Crawford, “­A Historian’s Introduction to Early American Music,” Proceedings of the American Antiquarian Society 89, October 1979: 261. W.E.B. Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, edited by David W. Blight and Robert Gooding Williams (­Boston, MA: Bedford Books, 1997, reprint), 187. 11 The reference to a “­species of fundamental social action” can be found in Leon Botstein, “­Cinderella, or Music and the Human Sciences, Unfootnoted Musings from the Margins,” Current Musicology 53, 1993: 128. For the copious literature on black music, see the research guide, “­Black Popular Music: From ‘­R ace Music’ to the Mainstream,” https://­g uides.tricolib.brynmawr.edu/­­black-­​­­popular-​­music, accessed June 20, 2022. 12 For quotation on historians and popular culture, see LeRoy Ashby, “­Not Necessarily Swill Time: Popular Culture and American History,” OAH Magazine of History 24(­2) Popular Culture Issue (­April 2010): 7. 13 See Bill Malone, Southern Music/­ American Music: New Perspectives on the South (­L exington: University Press of Kentucky, 1979). For quotation, see Ossie Davis to Deborah Work, “­A World of Their Own,” South Florida Sun Sentinel, January 31, 1999, n.p., http://­a rticles.­sun-​­sentinel.com/­­1999- ­​­­01-​­31/­entertainment/­­9901290509_1_ black-­​­­a rtists-­​­­blackface-­​­­black-​­painters, accessed May 7, 2018. 14 The quotation on music is from Charles Joyner, “­A frican and European Roots of Southern Culture: The ‘­Central Theme’ Revisited,” in Richard H. King and Helen Taylor (­eds.), Dixie Debates: Perspectives on Southern Cultures (­New York: New York University Press, 1996), 28. 15 The assertion that Phillips is the accepted founder of southern history can be found in Lacy K. Ford, “­Making the ‘­W hite Man’s Country’ White: Race, Slavery, and ­State-​­Building in the Jacksonian South,” in Michael A. Morrison and James Brewer Stewart (­eds.), Race and the Early Republic: Racial Consciousness and Nation Building in the Early Republic (­Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2002), 135. Ulrich B. Phillips, “­The Central Theme of Southern History,” American Historical Review 34, October

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  253

1928: 3­ 0–​­43. On the color line, see Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, 34. W.E.B. Du Bois, The Gift of Black Folk: The Negroes in the Making of America (­Boston, MA: The Stratford Company, 1924), 274. 16 See, for instance, Mark Michael Smith (­ed.), Hearing History: A Reader (­Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2004). The following list of historians who have addressed music within their scholarship obviously is not comprehensive, let alone complete. 17 On the West African bard gone global, see Thomas Hale, “­From the Griot of Roots to the Roots of Griot: A New Look at the Origins of a Controversial African Term for Bard,” Oral Tradition 12, 1997: ­249–​­78. On the “­traditional verbal artist,” see Moradewun Adejunmobi, “­Revenge of the Spoken Word?: Writing, Performance, and New Media in Urban West Africa,” Oral Tradition 26, 2011: 11. On “­keeping the past alive,” see Jayana Clerk and Ruth Siegel, Modern literatures of the ­Non-​­Western World: Where the Waters are Born (­New York: HarperCollins, 1995), 522. 18 Quotation is from “­ W hat is a Griot?” https://­ w ww.bucknell.edu/­ Documents/ ­GriotInstitute/­W hat%20is%20a%20Griot.pdf, accessed March 4, 2019. 19 The first quoted expression and much of my understanding about griots/­g riottes comes from Thomas Hale, Griots and Griottes: Masters of Words and Music (­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999). On “­preservation” quotation, see Lize Okoh, “­W hat Is a Griot and Why Are They Important?” Culture Trip, https://­theculturetrip. com/­a frica/­m ali/­a rticles/­­what-­​­­is-­​­­a-­​­­g riot-­​­­a nd-­​­­why-­​­­a re-­​­­they-​­i mportant/, accessed March 4, 2019. On “­a rtisans of the spoken word,” see Patricia Tang, Masters of the Sabar: Wolof Griot Percussionists of the Senegal (­Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, 2007). 20 W.E.B. Du Bois, Dusk of Dawn: An Essay Toward an Autobiography of a Race Concept (­New York: Schoken Books, 1968, reprint), ­114–​­15. 21 The first quotation can be found in Seckou Keita: My Culture, https://­w ww.seckoukeita.com/­­my-​­story/­­my-​­culture/, accessed April 1, 2019. Kendi’s quotation is from Lynn Neary, “­The Enduring Lyricism of W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Souls of Black Folk,” The Week’s Best Stories from NPR Books, https://­w ww.npr.org/­2018/­02/­23/­ 588103943/­­the- ­​­­enduring-­​­­lyricism- ­​­­of-­​­­w- ­​­­e -­​­­b - ­​­­du-­​­­bois-­​­­the-­​­­souls-­​­­of-­​­­black-​­folk, accessed March 4, 2019. 22 Bill C. Malone, “‘­Sing Me Back Home’: Growing Up in the South and Writing the History of Music,” in John B. Boles (­ed.), Shapers of Southern History: Autobiographical Reflections (­Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 2004), ­91–​­114. Robin D. G. Kelley, Thelonious Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original (­New York: The Free Press, 2009), ­x xi–​­x xii. 23 Carl Wittke, Tambo and Bones: A History of the American Minstrel Stage (­Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1930). 24 George B. Tindall, “­Jumping Jim Crow,” in Paul A. Cimbala and Robert F. Himmelberg (­eds.), Historians & Race: Autobiography and the Writing of History (­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996), 4. 25 “­Conversations with Scholars of American Popular Culture: Featured Guest George Lipsitz,” Americana: The Journal of American Popular Culture 1900 to the Present, 1 (­Spring 2002), http://­w ww.americanpopularculture.com/­journal/­a rticles/­spring_2002/­ lipsitz.htm, accessed April 8, 2018. “­Sixty Seconds with Brian Ward: An Interview,” British Association for American Studies: U.S. Studies Online Forum for New Writing, May 18, 2016, http://­w ww.baas.ac.uk/­usso/­­60-­​­­seconds-­​­­w ith-­​­­brian-​­ward/, accessed November 19, 2018. Max Farrar, “­Paul Gilroy: In Conversation,” darkmatter in the ruins of imperial culture: an international ­peer-​­reviewed journal, May 7, 2007, http://­w ww. darkmatter101.org/­site/­2007/­05/­07/­­paul-­​­­g ilroy-­​­­i n-​­conversation/, accessed February 25, 2019. For Quincy Jones quotation, see Paul Gilroy, The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness (­Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), 109. 26 “­The Wide Angle: An Interview with Jeffrey G. Ogbar,” Rorotoko: Start the Day Smart, September 29, 2009, http://­rorotoko.com/­i nterview/­­2 0090930_ogbar_

254  Michael T. Bertrand

jeffrey_hip-​­hop_revolution_culture_politics_rap/?page=2, accessed March 4, 2019. Lawrence W. Levine, “­The Musical Odyssey of an American Historian,” in Jeffrey H. Jackson and Stanley C. Pelkey (­eds.), Music and History: Bridging the Disciplines ( ­Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2005), 6. The first Angela Davis quotation is from Angela Davis: The Autobiography (­New York: Random House, 1974), 104. The second is from Davis, Blues Legacies and Black Feminism: Gertrude “­Ma” Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Billie Holiday (­New York: Pantheon Books, 1998), xv. 27 The quotation “­textured and nuanced understanding of life” comes from Jackson and Pelkey, “­Introduction,” Music and History, viii. John Hope Franklin, Mirror to America: The Autobiography of John Hope Franklin (­New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2005), 46, ­28–​­29. 28 C. Vann Woodward, Thinking Back: The Perils of Writing History (­Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1986), ­9 –​­10. Darlene Clark Hine, “­Reflections of Race and Gender Systems,” in Cimbala and Himmelberg (­eds.), Historians & Race, ­51–​­65. Brandon Fastman, “­L eon Litwack Comes Home: Black History Scholar Speaking at First Presbyterian Church,” Santa Barbara Independent February 14, 2013, https://­ www.independent.com/­news/­2013/­feb/­14/­­leon-­​­­l itwack-­​­­comes-​­home/, accessed on April 8, 2018. 29 The quotation can be found in David Roediger, “­The Making of a Historian: An Interview with Sterling Stuckey,” The Journal of African American History 99, Special Issue: “­Rediscovering the Life and Times of Frederick Douglass” (­­Winter-​­Spring 2014), 91. 30 On attending dances, see Roediger, “­The Making of a Historian,” 92. For Stuckey on the ring shout, see Sterling Stuckey, Slave Culture: Nationalist Theory and the Foundation of Black America (­New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), particularly 16, 30, ­57–​­58, 138. 31 For Stuckey’s critique of Phillips, see Sterling Stuckey, “­From the Bottom Up: Herbert Aptheker’s American Negro Slave Revolts and a Documentary History of the Negro People in the United States,” in Herbert Shapiro (­ed.), African American History and Radical Historiography: Essays in Honor of Herbert Aptheker (­M inneapolis, MN: MEP Publications, 1998), 43, 41. The quote from Phillips that Stuckey included in his article originally emanated from Ulrich B. Phillips, American Negro Slavery: A Survey of the Supply, Employment and Control of Negro Labor as Determined by the Plantation Regime (­New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1918), xxiv. The song was a traditional one arranged and performed by Paul Robeson. 32 The first quotation is from Jackson and Pelkey, Music and History, vii. The remaining quotations can be found in Levine, “­The Musical Odyssey of an American Historian,” 5, 7. 33 On Stuckey’s dialogue with Levine, see Roediger, “­The Making of a Historian,” 101. On the groundbreaking article cited in the paragraph, see Sterling Stuckey, “­Through the Prism of Folklore: The Black Ethos in Slavery,” The Massachusetts Review 9, 1968: ­417–​­37. 34 “­Musicality of music” and last quotation are from Jackson and Pelkey, Music and History, vii. 35 Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, 189. 36 Lewis, Biography of a Race, 129. 37 Christopher A. Brooks, “­The ‘­Musical’ Soul of Black Folks: Can a Double Consciousness Be Heard?” in Dolan Hubbard (­ed.), The Souls of Black Folk: One Hundred Years Later (­Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 2003), 280. Du Bois’s original take on the concept can be found in W.E.B. Du Bois, “­Strivings of the Negro People,” Atlantic 80, August 1897: ­194–​­98. 38 Du Bois, Dusk of Dawn, 35, 37. 39 The first quotation is from Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk, 38. The characterization of “­enraptured member” of the Mozart Society is from Lewis, Biography of a Race, 74.

Culture, Epistemology, and the Historicity of Black Music  255

The Fisk Herald quotation can be found in Herbert Aptheker, Annotated Bibliography of the Published Writings of W. E. B. Du Bois (­M illwood, NY: ­K raus-​­Thomson Organization, 1973), ­6 –​­7. For “­double musical consciousness,” see Brooks, “­The ‘­Musical’ Soul of Black Folks,” 279. 40 The phrase “­a ssigned marginal status” can be found in Alan Levy and Barbara L. Tischler, “­Into the Cultural Mainstream: The Growth of American Music Scholarship,” American Quarterly 42, 1990: 58.

15 EXPLORING MIGRATION LITERATURE Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

Introduction Amma Darko was born in Koforidua, Ghana, and grew up in Accra, a member of the Fanti, a dominant ethnic group in the central region of Ghana. Darko traveled to Germany for the first time in 1981, because she felt unsafe after the military government of Flight Lieutenant Jerry Rawlings seized power as chairman of the Armed Forces Revolutionary Council. She wrote her first novel about her experiences as a migrant living in Germany. Darko’s fiction creates a vivid portrait, not only of African characters in their homeland, but of their experiences and perceptions as they are confronted with the reality of living in Germany. Her novel critiques, from close experience, the fantasy and the reality of ­Germany—​­the Africans’ false expectation of the European continent and how they fall victims of these expectation in Europe, the pressure to survive at all costs and impress the people back home. The novel opens with the narrator, Mara, standing before an oval mirror in a German brothel. Her journey to Europe, embarked upon with great hope, has brought her to this point. Titled Der Verkaufte Traum1—​­l iterally “­the sold dream”—​­the novel focuses on Mara’s plight as a wife to Akobi in Ghana and in Germany. The novel begins by introducing the marriage contract between the fathers of Mara and Akobi before introducing Akobi to the implied reader. Akobi was educated at the Joseph Father of Jesus Roman Catholic school, the first son from the Naka village to earn a Form Four General Certificate.2 However, his father was able to sponsor Akobi’s education, not from the farming proceeds but as an undertaker, with the money he earned during a nasty outbreak of cholera that claimed many lives in the village. Unlike his father, he chooses to remain in the city after his education and worked as a messenger clerk of the Ministries. DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-19

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  257

The title of the novel clearly captures the deception, disillusionment, and mirage of Europe that the novel depicts. Mara is a homodiegetic narrator3 who recounts a series of events from her life, both recent and in the distant past. Through these memories, she reflects the life of immigrants who leave their countries in search of economic opportunities in Europe, but find their dreams become deflated upon arrival. The opening scene creates intrigue about the struggles that have brought Mara to this point. The novel will later move back to the city of Naka, a Ghanaian farming village, where readers encounter the young man Akobi and his family. Through an arrangement between both fathers, Mara is married off to Akobi and taken to the city, where she experiences physical, verbal, and sexual abuse at the hands of her husband. The marriage leaves a bitter taste in Mara’s mouth, as Akobi sells her clothing and moves to Germany, leaving her with empty promises of bringing her “­the goodies of Europe.” At the novel’s climax, Akobi, through the help of a smuggler, invites his wife to Germany under the guise of her being his sister. The novel features unstable and naive characters, stories of deception and adjustment that characterize migrants who are in the search for a new home outside their national space, and the interplay of culture. I concentrate on the characters’ encounters with different cultures and the difficulties they must overcome while adapting to their new “­Heimat.”4 Attending to ongoing public discussions around migration, I argue that the characters’ desire for belonging fuels the drive for identity shift. The concept of identity deployed here is not positional, but a strategic one. That is to say, the characters’ identification does not signal a stable self, but unfolds as they search for belonging in Germany. I also analyze questions of cultural differences and examine their treatment in the text. I conclude that Darko’s construction of her protagonists is a shared identification with their experience and migrant status. Their identity can only be understood as the totality of all experiences and life events of the characters. Beyond the Horizon has undergone critique by scholars like Lefara Silue, MaryEllen Higgins, and Celestin Gbaguidi.5 The latter concludes that the spaces in which it takes place strongly impact the actions and behaviors of the portrayed characters, since they are living in an unstable and fragmented universe. He focuses on the characters’ illegal arrival and subsequent disillusionment in Europe. Along with MaryEllen Higgins, Gbaguidi argues that Akobi would stop at nothing to reach his “­El Dorado,” as he exploits his wife upon her arrival in Germany and pushes her to engage in prostitution as an avenue to gain permanent residency.6 Higgins, however, considers the novel as a feminist text, claiming that Darko reaches out to her readers through the text to address the challenges of women trafficked across the African continent. Although Beyond the Horizon depicts prostitution and exploitation of the female characters, I take a different approach from other scholars, situating my argument within the literature of migration. Originally written for the German market, the novel attests to the synthesis of culture arising from the background of the author, Amma Darko, a Ghanaian, who originally published her work

258  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

in German before the English publication came out the year after. Migration literature, as I discuss in my analysis, denotes a synthesis of intercultural literary production. This is a body of literature that is located between cultures. Its authors may or may not be migrants, but their subject matter and points of view are influenced by multiple cultural environments.7 Migration literature also includes works that address the issue of migration, focusing on the relationship between migration and literature in the twentieth century and narrating a diasporic memory of the homeland. Beyond the Horizon allows readers to experience the phenomenon of living across and within borders; it thus emphatically embodies the category of ­A frican-​­German literature of migration.

Migration Literature in Africana Studies While Africans have been fictionalizing their migration experience, Germans however depict how Africans find their way to Germany. Jenny Erpenbeck’s novel Go, went, gone, which she originally published in 2016 under the German title Gehen, ging, gegangen, is a documentary novel that depicts the headline of most German newspapers in Europe. German media coined the notion of a “­m igrant crisis,”8 during which many migrants traveled through the Libyan desert and then across the Sahara Desert and the Mediterranean Sea to reach Italy by boat. Others took the seemingly more safe “­Balkan route”—​­a long march through different countries from Egypt across the Near East and Turkey to arrive at a final destination somewhere in central or northern Europe. Go, went, gone focuses on African characters who initially moved to Libya but due to various reasons, they were forced to move to Germany after the uproar in Libya. The depiction of African migrants and/­or refugee comes alongside with the mirage of Europe. For example, Rashid fled Nigeria during the Eid Mubarak Muslim festival that led to the death of his parents, to Libya. The uproar in Kaduna marked the beginning of his journey to migrancy in Libya, as Rashid recalled that: In Tripoli we had a living room like this, and also a parlor like that there, and we had three bedrooms, a hallway, a bathroom, and a kitchen…. My shop was close to the school. In two buildings, unfinished on the outside, but very nice inside. And a courtyard.9 Rashid seems to have life going on well for him until the outbreak of war in Libya that forced him out of Libya for Italy and then Germany. Rashid operates a bulldozer, owns a firm in Libya, but is, however, plunged downwards from a highly professional, entrepreneurial, and economic status to a menial and impoverished life. In keeping himself busy, Rashid “­fi nds jobs for his people as volunteers. Without pay, they rake leaves in Berlin’s parks, they mop the floors in preschools and schools, they wash dishes in a community center.”10 Rashid is happy in having something to do; however, this kind of “­happiness”

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  259

is a mere euphemism for the lack of utter despair. Doheny, writing on the plight of the African refugees, confirms being a migrant or a refugee could render “­a highly educated person with professional competence a ­non-​­entity overnight.”11 Rashid was already a metalworker before he arrived in Europe. Doheny’s claims expressly describe Rashid’s situation, as he is left with no choice than to make himself useful with raking leaves in Berlin’s parks and washing dishes while waiting for his asylum status. While Germans fictionalize migration literature, ­life-​­writing becomes a way of documenting life across borders for African migrants. Nura Abdi is a character in ­A frican-​­German literature, who narrates her experience moving from Somalia to Kenya and then Germany. Her journey to Europe was unexpected, since she initially was travelling to the United States with a stopover at Frankfurt airport where the German immigration agents discover her fake passport. In her collaborative autofiction, she takes up the narrative of her body, writes about her struggle making a living in Germany and living as a circumcised female. Nura’s circumcision story brings the Germans and the other migrants in contact with her identity. She remembers that “­the reaction was amazing every time: they attacked me and called me a liar. Nobody wanted to believe that there was anything like female circumcision!”12 In another conversation, Hannah, Nura’s friend, declares: “­You are as smooth as a wall down there. They have taken away your feelings. They ruin your body!”13 Migration brings to her knowledge the horrible act of genital mutilation inflicted on her body, a glorious practice she looked forward to when she was 17 years old. Her circumcision, purity, and glory are debased through migration and ­cross-​­cultural contact.14 The confrontation with Hannah, one of the few refugee friends in Düsseldorf, Germany, and other friends, shows that she was broken, ruined, and never dignified into womanhood as she thought before moving to Germany. Germany thrashed Nura’s expectation of economic prosperity. Nura was clear that she wanted to help her parents financially as she planned her trip to the United States. While she already had the idea of starting a better life outside Africa, however, after going through the asylum process at the airport, she landed on a job where she works eighteen hours a day. Her insistence of accepting such an exploitative job hinges on her parent’s advice, “­beg nobody in Germany.”15 The narrator reveals that Nura comes from a rich family and would rather earn money through a cleaning job than live from social aid since she is happy sending money to her family, “­1000, 1500, sometimes 2000 Mark a month.”16 Money stands as a significant feature of migrants like Nura, whose job and remittances are ways of connecting to ideas of finding a home outside Mogadishu, from where she takes care of her family. The debased job echoes Nura’s result to make a living doing menial jobs living outside Africa, a job she might not be willing to do in her homeland. The narrator’s description of her parent’s wealth before the war in Somalia differs from the standard of life Nura lives in ­Germany—​­working eighteen hours a day as a cleaner. Migration subjects Nura to a cleaner, an odd job for people who seems to struggle in life in Germany. Again, her job, similar

260  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

to Rashid’s in Erpenbeck’s Go, went, gone, typifies an occupation they would not want to practice in their homeland.

False Hopes, European Utopianism, and Money Beyond the Horizon reproduces images of utopian Germany as the underlying goal of Akobi’s migration. His travel plans begin after the birth of his son Kofo, which he witnessed in the village. He is uninteresting in spending time with his family but focuses on amassing properties to sell to secure his passport and visa to Germany. Darko fleshes out Akobi’s plans to travel to Europe as a g­ oal-​­driven process that requires selling valuables. After selling his wife’s most expensive clothes and jewelry that was given her as dowry, he is able to secure his trip. The narrator uses an argument that erupts between Akobi and his wife to reveal the secret reason behind the missing items at home: Yes, I searched for my jewelry and clothes and other things, but I didn’t find them. Did you put them here? “­No,” he replied curtly. You said you were bringing them for safekeeping, but I didn’t find them here. “­Because there are not here. I’ve sold them.”17 It is through Mara’s confrontation with her husband that she learns that Akobi is planning a trip to Europe. The dialogue suggests Akobi’s ­single-​­minded focus on preparing for migration. Readers learn that he is drawn by the illusionary ideas that Europe provides economic security for migrants. He explains to Mara: I am going to Europe to live there for just a year or two at most and to work. Mara, do you know that there is so plenty factory and construction work waiting to be done there in Europe but with so little people to do them? That is why I sold your things, Mara. I want to go there and work, to work hard. And I tell you, I tell you upon the gods of Naka that Mara, in a year, in just one year, you will see for yourself. I will make so much money that I can buy us everything! Everything, Mara! Television, radio, fridge, carpet, even car!18 Akobi’s words suggest what is missing in his perception of Europe. To him, it is a desirable destination that can provide good jobs for the growing population and migrants. The underlying issues at play in Akobi’s migration decisions are not at first explicitly revealed, but it is clear that his view of Europe is idealized, even utopian. This utopian view is possible because he has never been there. In their essay Utopia, Promised Lands, Immigration and Exile, Fernando Ainsa and Jeanne Ferguson argue that “­Utopia exists in ‘­another place,’ far from here. These are ‘­ideal spaces’ or ­longed-​­for spaces; that may exist contemporarily with our world but are Utopias because they are isolated or accessible with difficulty.”19 Ainsa and Ferguson’s concept of utopia builds on the presumption of a “­world” that people imagine in the

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  261

past or presume exists in another place. Akobi’s migration decision typifies what I describe as “­European utopianism,” a view of Europe as a place that can fulfill the migrant’s dreams of money and the acquisition of “­everything” money can afford. Mara too becomes a European utopian, influenced by her husband’s misconception. As Akobi goes on to convince his wife of the achievement that awaits him on the European continent, the narrator casts doubt on the information she delivers. The events are chronicled from the point of a later version of the character who is aware of her husband’s deception and aware of her own naïveté at the time. Akobi continues: and that won’t be all, Mara. that would be just the first year. If I don’t miss you and Kofo too much by then (­a s though he had missed us the whole year I’d been in Naka) and I am able to stay on for another year or more, then before I return we can have our own home. A beautiful block house just like those government Ministers and doctors with their English wives. All that Mara, all that! Can you imagine?”20 Mara recognizes the deception of her husband’s statement but is drawn to the imagined hopes that Europe offers migrants. As she processes this information, she recalls how in her earlier life she and her friends used to imagine “­Europe not to be just near Heaven but in Heaven itself.”21 The protagonist condenses memories of conversation between herself and other people from the Naka village: “­That is why people who go there return very beautiful” and “­that must be why only these flying things can go there.”22 Through the people of Naka, Mara creates an image of Europe as an ideal space of beauty and luxury where dreams of economic security come true. Mara played her role to help her husband actualize his desire of reaching Europe by hawking boiled eggs and roasted groundnut. As the trip draws near, the family breaks the travel plans to the people of Naka.23 To some of the villagers, Akobi’s trip sparks an indescribable excitement since “­this is the big God’s sign to show the world that Naka is his chosen land.”24 The chief of Naka believes that “­A kobi has brought a great honor to this village.”25 Through the chief and one of the villagers, the narrator underscores Naka’s understanding of Europe as an ideal continent. Europe has become, in Jeremy Rif kin’s words, a “­city upon a hill.”26 Describing the idea of the European dream, Rif kin emphasizes that it is “­a beacon of light in a troubled world. It beckons us to a new age of inclusivity, diversity, quality of life, deep play, sustainability, universal human rights, the rights of nature, and peace on Earth.”27 Rif kin’s argument provides context for the character’s search for a distant and imaginary space of quality of life and economic enrichment. Apart from the false hopes of Europe the novel presents, money plays a crucial role in facilitating Akobi’s migration. He pays heavy bribes to get his passport at the passport office but cannot secure an “­entry visa for any European country.”28 The visa struggle puts him in a situation of being duped by a man who claims to

262  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

know someone at the embassies and assures Akobi that he will help him secure a visa. The visa struggles also exemplify the battle between honesty and deception, as the man ends up taking “­a large sum of money which he said he would need to bribe his connection; then he disappeared, just as he had materialized, without a trace.”29 The dupe reveals Akobi as a man who is willing to do anything to bribe his way to Europe. The incident reveals money as a tool that can either give its owner power within the system or reveal their weakness as someone willing to give up anything to reach a goal. For Akobi and the people of Naka, money as well as superstition are invested with the power to help him attain his goal. On hearing that there is a more expensive way of entering Europe without a valid visa, Akobi turns to his father for financial help; his father sells his plot of land and Akobi’s aunt sells some of her gold jewelry. Like the Naka people, Akobi believes that his migratory journey is prestigious. Since the trip is a worthy ambition, the medicine man back in the village sends his assistant to give Akobi a ­last-​­minute warning, stressing that he shakes hands with no one at the airport. Although the narrator finds the message funny and silly, Akobi believes his successful journey hinges on following this instruction, highlighting “­the distance of many kilometers”30 the messenger traveled to deliver such an urgent message and the value the medicine man places on seeing him reach Europe. As the time of departure approaches, the narrator leaves her readers in the dark about the maneuvers at the airport. We know only that Akobi leaves the house at about 2 pm, but his flight takes off by 11 pm. Unnarrated are his arrival at the airport and how he manages to pass through migration ­control—​­thus creating a lacuna in the middle of his crucial journey. He later writes a brief letter to Mara accompanied by a postcard two years after his departure.31 Despite the gap in information, the letter and postcard suggest that Akobi was successful in reaching Europe without a visa. Throughout the narrative, Akobi speaks and understands the language of money, using it to open a door to his migration. Darko’s portrayal of Akobi’s journey to Germany may remind readers of the character of Tunde in Luc Degla’s “­Der Nachahmer,” part of the collection of short stories in Das Afrikanische Auge. Tunde arrives in Germany without a Schengen visa by bribing the Nigerian immigration agents at the Lagos Airport.32 Similar to Akobi, Tunde essentially “­buys” his migration to Germany, where he aims to start a business that ships used cars to Nigeria to help himself and his family financially and finally return to Nigeria to start his company. Unlike Akobi, however, Tunde is not interested in living in Germany. Tunde’s belief in his idealized future life in Europe is complicated by the fact that he does not plan to stay there permanently; rather, his ideal life is in his homeland, after having acquired the wealth and prestige he associates with Europe.

Fluid Identity Akobi and his family’s migration provides a crucial context to situate their identification.

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  263

The narrator is concerned with the identity of the fictional characters as much as with the situation they find themselves in as migrants trying to adjust to Germany. “­Identity” appears as a form of dialectic contrast: one does not have meaning without the other. Mara’s journey to Germany opens up layers of fluid identity for the character. After many exchanges of letters, Akobi decides to arrange for his wife’s visit to Germany with the help of an agent. Men like Akobi “­paid him to smuggle their wives and girlfriends, who had no valid visas, into Europe.”33 With the help of the agent, he creates an identity for his ­w ife—​­an identification that becomes fluid while in transit. “­Liquidity” is a key concept in Zygmunt Bauman’s analysis of modernity. The main thing required of individuals in modern societies is their “­fluidity,” that is, their adaptability and willingness to change their identity. Bauman argues that “­fluids” travel easily, are rarely static, and necessarily lead a precarious life while facing a permanent succession of new beginnings.34 Bauman’s concept sheds light on the trajectories of Mara and Akobi’s identity, their mobility and changing roles that come with new beginnings. Mara reaches the airport with her passport, with which she passes through immigration without much trouble. However, upon her reaching Schönefeld Airport in East Berlin, her passport is switched for another passport that will grant her immigration access to West Germany. Her knowledge of this passport switch and her silence despite her awareness that the passport is not hers and that “[it] was older than mine and had many travel stamps in it,”35 evidence her willingness to adapt to a new persona in order to see her husband. New identities become a way to defeat the scrutiny of the immigration police. Homi Bhabha’s concept of hybridity serves as a springboard to analyze Darko’s migrant characters. In his essay “­Signs Taken for Wonders,” Bhabha argues that: hybridity is the sign of the productivity of colonial power, its shifting forces and fixities; it is the name for the strategic reversal of the process of domination through disavowal (­that is, the production of discriminatory identities that secure the ‘­pure’ and original identity of authority).36 Bhabha uses examples from the natives of India and British missionaries’ imposition of the Bible in the nineteenth century to map out his point. He refers mostly to colonial subjects from Asia and Africa who seek to find a balance between Eastern and Western cultural attributes, stressing that “­they change their conditions of recognition while maintaining their visibility,”37 imitating white cultural and linguistic norms. Hybridity, for Bhabha, demonstrates how cultures are represented by processes of translation and destabilization. The narrator’s choice of words highlights further how Akobi adapts to the German culture. Culture, for him, must be navigated in his quest for survival, feeding into the complexity of Akobi’s cultural identity. Mara learns through her conversation with Osey, the smuggler Akobi pays to transport Mara from East Berlin to Hamburg, that he has adopted the name Cobby, whose meaning she tries to decipher. Osey tells Mara that he is now called Cobby instead of Akobi

264  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

since the former “­sounds more civilized, […] more hip” and the latter “­sounds too primitive, too African, yes too African,”38 but that the new name is a modification of an African word, name, and cultural identification that symbolizes ­A kobi’s finding of balance within the German culture. Osey, agreeing with Akobi’s methods of adaptation, understands this transition as “­ Europeanism.”39 Akobi cannot fit in in Germany as someone whose name declares him African. By modifying his name, he as well changes his condition of i­dentification—​­to be seen as a civilized man from Africa. Germany as his migratory home now defines his personality. Akobi does not want to remain on the margins of German culture but attempts to gain the center by all available means.40 His change of name embodies his desire to achieve visibility by imitating “­civilized” European culture within the German community. This prioritization of Europeanness suggests that Akobi’s migration from Ghana to Germany involves a complex t­ ransformation—​­one that defines the construction of a hybrid identity. This hybridization is a strategic disavowal of the “­culture of origin” that is associated with his “­primitive name.” Michael Hofmann, in his book on intercultural literature,41 uses “­culture of origin” and the “­dominant culture” to flesh out the complexity surrounding migrant identities, especially the second and third generation of Turkish migrants born in Germany who prefer to be identified as “­Turkish” or “­Italian.” Akobi prefers not to be identified with his culture of origin.42 Although he plans to return to Ghana eventually and resume his life as an African, the name Cobby signals a shift to identifying as European. On her arrival in Germany, Mara begins to perceive the cultural adjustment she would undergo to live with her husband. She is to live with Akobi and Gitte, his new German wife, as his sister and not as his wife. Vivian, state who this is, reveals to Mara that “­A kobi has married a German woman here so that he can live here long enough in peace to be able to make plenty money and repay all the money he took from home to come here.”43 This ­cross-​­cultural marriage further reveals the home of an immigrant as an intercultural meeting point. Wolfgang Welsch in “­­Transculturality—​­the Puzzling Form of Cultures Today” argues that the conception of interculturality seeks ways in which cultures can get along, understand, and recognize one another.44 Welsch’s notion of interculturality provides context for the complex interactions of various forces within the migrant community. Germany becomes a contact zone for Akobi, his two wives, and those they encounter: “­the spaces where disparate cultures meet, and grapple with each other.”45 Although these migrant characters are separated geographically before coming into contact with each other, they work together to find solutions to problems like legal papers and the search for home and economic belonging in Germany. However, the interaction within the “­contact zone” threatens Mara’s understanding of Germany and the European utopianism that her husband painted before his departure for Germany. Osey and Vivian function as representatives of the intercultural positions that Akobi, Osey, and his wife undergo while experiencing migration in Germany.

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  265

They form part of diaspora, a “­g roup of migrants who share a common bond to the homeland they left behind”46 and also function as their means of identification in the new country.47 The trio shares the struggles of adjustment after cheating their way across the German border. In her analysis of the diasporic relationship, Maria Frías discusses the ways Akobi and Osey oppress and exploit their wives, whom they force into sex slavery after bringing them to Germany, using them as a means to enrich themselves and obtaining residence permits. Frías further stressed that “­Darko’s disturbing discourse on prostitution aims to designate African women as active subjects.” It reframes these women, whom men used as a means to an end, “­a s recalcitrant rebels, and v­ ictim-​­survivors who are portrayed as being foremost in offering resistance to sexual/­colonial domination.”48 These conclusions add weight to the argument that Osey and Akobi use the women in their lives to position themselves in Germany. Throughout the narrative, marriage is used as a tool to achieve legal and economic goals. On the one hand, Vivian marries a German man for economic motives while still married to Osey. On the other hand, Osey is married to Ingrid, a German, to get legal papers.49 ­Cross-​­cultural marriage is thus not a site of mutual cultural interchange, but a sign of one identity’s subordination to another. As part of the “­m igration orientation,” Akobi reveals to Mara that his marriage to Gitte is founded on false love.50 His migrant status rests on his proactive move to marry a German woman for legal documents. Although this marriage guarantees the continuance of his stay in Germany, his identity as a German is thus constructed from a standpoint of alienation. Homi Bhaba argues that “­cultural difference emerges at points of social crises and the question of identity is claimed either from a position of marginality or in an attempt at gaining the center.”51 It is the latter that Akobi pursues. His false pretense of love toward Gitte portrays his attempt to gain a permanent stay in Germany. Akobi’s stay in Germany further demands a twist in his cultural identity. He cites Germany’s interpretation of marriage in his attempt to break the news of his German wife to Mara. The Naka tradition permits the union between a man and many wives, and so does Mara, as she interprets Akobi as saying he now has a second wife, to which he objects: “­Mara, call it what you like, but polygamy here is not like polygamy at home. Here, polygamy is a ­crime—​­they call bigamy. I can go to prison for it […].”52 Through Mara, Darko introduces Ghanaian cultural norms about marriage to her readers. The reader is aware of Mara’s acceptance of her husband’s right to two women as she naively questions Akobi, “­why should a man go to prison because he has taken a second wife?”53 The dialogue creates a snapshot of misunderstanding concerning ­m arriage—​­Mara speaking from the mindset of the Naka people, while Akobi defers to Germany’s legal system, which constitutes his migrant identity. Mara’s questions show fidelity to the Naka tradition, as she insists on seeing Gitte as “­a second wife” and not as a “­German wife.” Akobi displays awareness of the tradition that allows him to take a second wife, but also hides his first marriage from Gitte and feigns monogamy, which is the law in Germany. For Mara, the marriage to Gitte fits into the Naka

266  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

cultural identity, while Akobi takes a detour into German cultural norms, suggesting that Gitte is not a second wife but a “­German wife”—​­the only wife he will recognize in his role as German citizen. Akobi is aware of his right as an African to take a second wife and of the potential consequences of making Gitte aware of his marriage in Ghana. He conceals his union with Mara from Gitte and introduces her as his sister upon her arrival at his home. The author thus juxtaposes two systems of marriage, the polygamous system which is allowed within the Naka tribe and the monogamous union which is the only one recognized by German law. The former springs from a Ghanaian perspective in which authority and power are vested in the male figure, while the latter appears to be founded on equality. Although he acknowledges his country’s traditions with regard to marriage, it appears that migration pushes him to accept the German law of monogamy. However, Akobi’s monogamous marriage is only a pretense, and his deception of Gitte undermines the notion that he is treating her as an equal. European and Ghanaian cultural expectations contribute to the complex relationship between Akobi and his wives. His identities are constructed across different continents and are “­constantly in the process of change and transformation.”54 Akobi’s marriages reveal another layer of identity. Although he submerges himself in the everyday world of a German marriage, Akobi also plays the role of husband to his Ghanaian wife, a role in which he gives instructions and never takes them. A quick look at the beginning of his marriage to Mara suggests how he perceives it: He had bought me no new clothes and left me still with only those I had come in from the village, and in spite of this he had also forbidden me to sew any of the cloth he had presented me with as part of my dowry.55 Mara narrates a conversation with Mama Kiosk, one of the first friends she makes upon her arrival in the city, about how authority works: “­Tradition demands that the wife respect, obey and worship her husband and it demands, in return, care, good care of the wife. Your husband neglects you and yet demands respect and complete worship from you.”56 The union between Akobi and Mara is one in which the man has absolute control over the woman; she has no say and could be beaten up when she misbehaves.57 A very different dynamic is in play in his second marriage. Migration renders Akobi all but powerless, in need of a woman to retain his right to exist in the country. Not only that, but his marriage to Gitte also discloses a hidden side of his personality. He offers obedience and loyalty to Gitte, now taking instruction from his German wife: “­cook something for Mara. The chicken legs are thawed, and I brought rice.”58 Given her past, Mara is shocked to find that her husband has become another person, not the man she used to know who exercised total authority over his wife. This depicts characters torn between who they are and who they want to be. Mara, as narrator, at first suggests that Akobi considers his wife “­h is property”59;

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  267

his payment of a bride price before marrying Mara symbolizes the idea of buying “­a property” instead of a wife.60 Mara thus cannot understand the cultural transformation she sees in Germany. She expresses her amazement as “[her] mouth fell open. She was shocked. Akobi to cook for me?”61 Akobi and the cultural expectations he brings with him do not have the power in Germany that they had in Africa. In her discussion of Akobi and Gitte’s home, Higgins argues that their marriage symbolizes the division of labor: “­Gitte’s nationality affords her power over Akobi.”62 Higgins proposes that inequities in marriage are fueled by national, gender, and class hierarchies. However, my analysis is interested in the identities that migration and marriage create, and thus is more concerned with how migration affects marital and gender identities. A crucial passage is one in which Mara reflects on the pains of migration, the ­cross-​­cultural identity transformation her husband is undergoing, and the unfamiliarity of a culture where the man shares responsibilities with his wife or even cooks for his guest while the wife looks on. In presenting Akobi through analogy, Mara recalls: This my own dear husband Akobi who back home used to reproach me if I was a minute late with his food; who many a time landed me knocks on my forehead with his knuckles if I fetched him too little or too much water in the bowl for him to wash his hands before and after eating; this is my very own Akobi it was who, upon his white wife’s commands, trotted into the kitchen. Seconds later, the clattering of pans and spoons told me that he had commenced his assigned task.63 Mara’s past memory intersects with the event in the present. Not only does it shape her perception of her husband, but she discovers a new Akobi who is undergoing a gradual identity shift as a means of s­ urvival—​­the willingness to adapt to the new culture in which he finds himself. Through ­memory-​­elicited narration, Mara focalizes memories of early marriage that awaken ill feelings about her marital union with Akobi. She presents two Akobis to the reader: Mara’s Ghanaian husband who takes no commands and Gitte’s German husband who takes them happily. His original source of identity is his Ghanaian culture, while Germany constitutes a battleground between these former “­lived experiences” and his migrant experience.64 This juxtaposition produces a fluid identification. The “­new” ­A kobi—​­or “­Cobby,” as he is now ­k nown—​­does not see a wife as his personal property. He treats her superficially as an equal, even as he conceals from her the nature of their union as bigamous, and thus unacceptable to German cultural mores.

Conclusion Migration, identity, and interculturality intersect in the lives of Ghanaians living in Germany in Darko’s Beyond the Horizon. Written by a Ghanaian, the novel is a critical appraisal of the treatments of migrants in Germany, even as it depicts the

268  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

strategies migrants u ­ se—​­both logistically and on the level of ­identity—​­to survive in their new surroundings. Darko depicts Akobi as situated between his past and his present. In this text, his ability to start a new life in Germany is contingent on money. Highlighting both the importance of money and the strength of his desire to migrate to Europe, Akobi sells his wife’s possessions to afford the trip. His family, too, will go any length to see their son travel to Europe, selling their own valuables to achieve this goal. They have an African identity and are steeped in Ghanaian culture, yet accept the superiority of Europe as a place to live and attain one’s goals as a successful Ghanaian patriarch. In Beyond the Horizon, characters encounter another culture and are forced to adopt complex hybrid identities. Akobi’s arrival in Germany requires him to give up his status as authority figure in the home (­while covertly taking part in the Ghanaian tradition of polygamy), while Mara must come to terms with Akobi’s new persona and with her new dual role as wife/“­sister.” These ­cross-​­cultural encounters, and the hybrid identities they produce, are their only means of survival and adjustment in Germany. They attest to the morally complex and often painful process of forming an identity as an immigrant.

Notes 1 Amma Darko, Der verkaufte Traum: Roman (­München: Dt. ­Taschenbuch-​­Verl., 1994). 2 Amma Darko, Beyond the Horizon (­Oxford: Heinemann, 1995), 5. 3 See Gérard Genette, Narrative Discourse: An Essay in Method, trans. Jane E Lewin (­Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1983). 4 For discussion of Heimat as an idea of home, see ­Ina-​­Maria Greverus, Der Territoriale Mensch Ein Literaturanthropologischer Versuch Zum Heimatphänomen (­Frankfurt am Main: Athenaeum Verlag, 1972); Celia Applegate, A Nation of Provincials the German Idea of Heimat (­Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990). 5 Célestin Gbaguidi, “­A frican Illegal Immigrants’ Disillusionment in Europe: A Study of Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon,” Littérature, Langues et Linguistique 2(­2), 2014: ­36–​­48; Lèfara Silue, “­Fictionalized Representation of Space in Amma Darko’s beyond the Horizon,” International Journal of Humanities and Cultural Studies 4(­2), 2017: ­217–​­28; MaryEllen (­Ellie) Higgins, “­Transnational, Transcultural Feminisms? Amma Darko’s Response in ‘­Beyond the Horizon’,” Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature 25, 2006: ­307–​­22. 6 Gbaguidi, “­A frican Illegal Immigrants’ Disillusionment in Europe,” 42. 7 On the notion of migration literature, see Leslie A Adelson, The Turkish Turn in Contemporary German Literature towards a New Critical Grammar of Migration (­New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005); Carmine Chiellino, Interkulturelle Literatur in Deutschland: Ein Handbuch (­New York: ­Springer-​­Verlag, 2000); Dirk Göttsche, “­­Cross-​­Cultural ­Self-​­Assertion and Cultural Politics: African Migrants’ Writing in German Since the Late 1990S,” German Life and Letters 63(­1), 2010: ­54–​­70; Dirk Göttsche, “‘­Eine Eigene Mischung Aus Identität Und Kultur’: Afrikanische Migrantenliteratur in Deutscher Sprache Zwischen Diaspora Und Transkulturalität,” Mont Cameroun: Afrikanische Zeitschrift Für Interkulturelle Studien Zum Deutschsprachigen Raum 6, 2009: ­29–​­51. 8 The German newspaper used the word ‘­F luchtlingskrise,’ which translates m igrant crisis’ repeatedly in their newspaper reports. See Bewarder, Manuel. ‘­ F lüchtlingskrise 2015: Dokumente Zeigen Ausmaß Des Kontrollverlusts.” DIE “­ WELT, February 8, 2019. https://­w ww.welt.de/­politik/­deutschland/­plus188432943/

Identity and Culture in Amma Darko’s Beyond the Horizon  269

­­F luechtlingskr ise- ­​­­ 2 015- ­​­­ D okumente- ­​­­ z eigen- ­​­­ A usmass- ­​­­ d es- ​­ K ontrollverlusts. html, Daldrup, Till. “­ F lüchtlingskrise: Das Jahr, das Deutschland veränderte.” Die Zeit. March 9, 2016, sec. Politik. https://­ w ww.zeit.de/­ politik/­ ausland/­­ 2016-​ ­03/­­fluechtlingskrise-­​­­deutschland-­​­­bilanz-­​­­fluechtlingspolitik-​­z aesur. Der Spiegel, “­München: Christoph Hillenbrand bittet um Hilfe bei F ­ lüchtlingsansturm—​­DER ­SPIEGEL—​­Politik,” Der Spiegel, September 7, 2015, https://­w ww.spiegel.de/­politik/­ deutschland/­­m uenchen- ­​­­r echnet- ­​­­m it- ­​­­b is- ­​­­z u-­​­­10- ­​­­0 00-­​­­weiteren- ­​­­f luechtlingen- ­​­­a -​ ­1051739.html. 9 Jenny Erpenbeck, Go, Went, Gone, trans. Susan Bernofsky (­New York: New Directions Books, 2017), ­190–​­91. 10 Erpenbeck, 165. 11 Kevin Doheny, “­The Plight of the Refugee: A Case in ­Point–​­Africa.,” ICMC Migration News 30(­1), 1981: 4. 12 Nura Abdi and Leo G. Linder, Tränen im Sand (­Köln: Bastei Lübbe, 2013), 288. 13 Ibid., 262. 14 Uhuegbu explores an i­n-​­depth analysis of Migrant experience in Jenny Erpenbecks’ Go, went, gone and the female body, transculturality, and c­ ross-​­cultural contact in Abdi’s Tränen in Sand. See Chiedozie Uhuegbu, Borders, Belonging and Otherness in ­African-​­G erman Literature (­Vanderbilt University: Unpublished Dissertation, n.d.). 15 Abdi and Linder, Tränen im Sand, 278. 16 Ibid., 278. 17 Amma Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 33. 18 Ibid., 34. 19 Fernando Ainsa and Jeanne Ferguson, “­Utopia, Promised Lands, Immigration and Exile,” Diogenes 30(­119), 1982: 49. 20 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 34. 21 Ibid., 34. 22 Ibid., ­34–​­35. 23 Ibid., 39. 24 Ibid. 25 Ibid. 26 Jeremy Rif kin, The European Dream: How Europe’s Vision of the Future Is Quietly Eclipsing the American Dream (­New York: Penguin Press, 2004), 358. 27 Ibid., 385. 28 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 39. 29 Ibid. 30 Ibid., 42. 31 Ibid., 48. 32 Luc Degla (­ed.), “­Der Nachahmer,” in Das afrikanische Auge (­Schwülper: Cargo Verlag, 2007), 35. 33 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 57. 34 Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Modernity (­Cambridge: Polity Press, 2000); Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Life (­Cambridge: Polity Press, 2005). 35 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 59. 36 Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of Culture (­New York: Routledge, 2006), 159. 37 Bhabha, 169. 38 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 66. 39 Ibid., 66. 40 Bhabha, The Location of Culture, 254. 41 Michael Hofmann, Interkulturelle Literaturwissenschaft: Eine Einführung ( ­Paderborn: Fink Verlag, 2006), 13. 42 “­In Ghana, it is easy to know the day of birth of a person by the local name, usually the first name he carries. It is also easy to determine one’s tribe to a great extent, from one’s surname.” “­A mma Darko Biography,” Amma Darko, January 20, 2020, http://­ www.ammadarko.de/­biography.htm.

270  Chiedozie Michael Uhuegbu

43 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 79. 44 Wolfgang Welsch, “­ Transculturality: The Puzzling Form of Cultures Today,” in Mike Featherstone and Scott Lash (­eds.), Spaces of Culture: City, Nation, World (­L ondon: Sage, 1999), 196. 45 Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation (­New York: Routledge, 2008), 7. 46 Claire Sutherland, Nationalism in the ­Twenty-​­First Century: Challenges and Responses (­New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), 2. 47 Fatima ­El-​­Tayeb, European Others Queering Ethnicity in Postnational Europe, Difference Incorporated (­M inneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011), see C ­ hapter 2; Stuart Hall and Bill Schwarz, Familiar Stranger: A Life between Two Islands (­Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2017), ­140–​­72. 48 María Frías, “­Women on Top: Prostitution and Pornography in Amma Darko’s beyond the Horizon,” Wasafiri 17(­37), 2002: 12. 49 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 77, 129. 50 Ibid., 78. 51 Bhabha, The Location of Culture, 254. 52 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 79. 53 Ibid., 79. Mara’s father used his daughter’s bride price to marry another wife which is customary to the Naka people. Darko lets her readers encounter the traditions of the people of Naka that allows marriage between a man and several women to which Mara subscribes. 54 Stuart Hall, “­Introduction: Who Needs ‘­Identity’?,” in Paul Du Gay and Stuart Hall (­eds.), Questions of Cultural Identity (­L ondon: Sage, 1996), 4. 55 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 13. 56 Ibid. 57 Ibid., 11. 58 Ibid., 97. 59 Ibid., 7. 60 Ibid. 61 Ibid., 97. 62 Higgins, “­Transnational, Transcultural Feminisms?” 312. 63 Darko, Beyond the Horizon, 97. 64 Stuart Hall, “­Culture and the State,” in James Donald, Tony Bennett, and Colin Mercer (­eds.), The State and Popular Culture (­L ondon: Open University Press, 1982), ­1–​­15.

16 “­A FILM IS BANNED IF THE LADIES SAY SO” Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, ­1912–​­1963 Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

Introduction Film censorship in colonial Kenya was a controversial enterprise, “­a necessary evil.”1 The British colonial government in Kenya framed censorship as an indispensable apparatus for protecting and preserving societal morals and values, but critics condemned it as a patronizing device that controlled leisure by restricting freedom of choice. For the most part, the debate centered on banned films, but the question of who authorized the ban also acquired prominence. Because censoring films was not a paid occupation, it attracted w ­ omen—​­mostly white and Asian ­women—​­who volunteered for tasks that kept them busy while their men governed the colony and ran businesses. African men and women joined the censorship enterprise much ­later—​­shortly before the country’s independence in 1963. Collectively, the women banned “­indecent” films and cut “­objectionable” scenes that offended their sensibilities, a practice whose outcome infuriated viewers, leading them to question whether censorship was “­being undertaken intelligently and by the right people.”2 This chapter examines women film censurers to make the point that they controlled leisure by banning films that they considered harmful to Africans, an impressionable category of film audience that the altruistic ladies volunteered to protect. Banning films did not always go as envisioned, as n ­ on-​­African film ­consumers—​­mostly white and Asian m ­ en—​ ­suffered the unintended consequences of censorship. As censurers, women played a critical role in nurturing the colonizer’s idealized notion of “­acceptable” morals and values for Africans, a notion deeply rooted in the racial trope insinuating that African film consumers were gullible. The chapter taps into the women’s active role as the gatekeepers of moral production to construct a mosaic that deepens our understanding of how cinema, a form of art that James M. Burns calls “­fl ickering shadows,”3 unmasked the colonial anxiety about Africans. DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-20

272  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

Historical Background of Foreign Women in Kenya Foreign women in colonial Kenya came from Western Europe, South Africa, Canada, and Asia. All but the Asians were white, with the first batch from Europe trickling in as missionaries or wives of missionaries shortly before colonialism proper in 1895. Working at the behest of several mission societies in Europe that read the scientific expedition reports of a “­d ark” continent devoid of “­enlightenment,” the women heeded the call to evangelize and bring spiritual enlightenment to Africans. In 1891, the Church Missionary Society “­appealed for men and women to go out to East Africa and devote their lives to evangelistic work among the natives.”4 Among those who responded were L. S. B. Leakey’s mother and two of her sisters (­L eakey is the revered anthropologist whose research demonstrated that humans evolved in Africa). Anxious to answer “­God’s call” for action in Africa, the sisters sailed to East Africa, but Leakey’s mother became sick while in Mombasa and “­was invalidated back to England and told that she must never again venture to tropical Africa.”5 But she did. In 1899, she married the missionary Harry Leakey and followed him to Africa two years later. Another category of European women in Kenya encompassed the spouses of British colonial administrators. At first, the Colonial Office in London only permitted “­w ives of ­h igh-​­ranking officials or those in stations where housing was available for married officers”6 to colonies in Africa. In Nigeria, for example, only married women were permitted into the country before 1920.7 However, senior colonial officials were exempted from this restriction. Governors, for example, traveled with their spouses. In Kenya, Sir Philip Mitchell, on whose watch the Mau Mau group emerged to agitate for land and freedom, came to Kenya with his wife and left for holiday in the United Kingdom at the end of his tenure “­before coming to anchor in Subukia [Kenya] towards the end of October [1952].”8 So did Evelyn Baring, who engineered a brutal response against Mau Mau in 1950s, when he brought his wife Mary Cecil to Kenya. Private European citizens in Kenya, such as missionaries and settlers, were also exempted. Those who could afford the cost brought their wives and single women from Europe and South Africa as private tutors for their children.9 Two of the three governesses hired by Leakey’s parents came from South Africa and one, B. A. Bull, from Britain. At the end of their contracts, most governesses stayed and served in other capacities. Miss Broome from Natal, South Africa, who replaced Bull in the Leakey household, did not return to her country. She stayed to “­to do war nursing”10 during World War I. Faced with increasing requests from women wishing to travel to Africa, London relaxed the misogynistic restriction that saw the entry of professional women into what was traditionally considered “­a man’s country.” Perhaps the most visible category of white women in Kenya was the wives of male settler farmers from Europe and South Africa. This group responded to the colonial government’s lure of “­cheap land” and the opportunity to farm and

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  273

live in what one writer in Kenya characterized as “­a land combined to create a landscape that had not its like in all the world [sic].”11 Women in this category outnumbered their counterparts in mission stations and those whose husbands worked as civil servants. As latecomers, they found their peers in churches and “­verandahs of power,”12 to use Garth A. Myers’s timely phrase, had already established their presence in a growing field of women that included Asians and Africans. Wasting little time to secure a meaningful foothold, they carved for themselves the space that allowed them to induce sisterhood acceptance among their white kindred. Swathed in the racial cloak of the time and ­hell-​­bent on extracting respect from n ­ on-​­Europeans, especially African men and women subsisting on their farms as squatters, they utilized the space to acquire submission and insisted on being addressed as memsab, a corrupt version of the Indian phrase memsahib (­a married white or u ­ pper-​­class woman; often used as a respectful form of address by nonwhites). This category of European women in colonial Kenya embodied respectability, authority, and class differentiation. Because the colonial government made squatters out of Africans by expropriating their land and giving it away to European settlers, white women who owned farms in Kenya surprisingly found themselves in charge of African squatters living and working on what they fondly characterized as “­our land.”13 Enjoying state protection, they exercised power as memsahib and extracted respect from African families squatting on their farms, including African men who, regardless of age, appeared to them as “­boys.” Exuding ­self-​­assured superiority, and always glowering at Africans for forgetting to address a white man as “­m ister,” white women took it upon themselves to remind them, in case they had forgotten, of white superiority. To say the least, incessant verbal reminders were mentally exhausting. They embodied ritualized violence against Africans that cast European women in the colony as scrubbers, an image that Helen Callaway, an apologist of white women’s behaviors in colonial Africa, argues is “­d istorted, misrepresented, seen as caricature”14 and one that she attempts to correct in Gender, Culture and Empire: European Women in Colonial Nigeria. To borrow and adapt Elizabeth Mancke’s phrase, so expansive was white women’s hubris that at times they failed to recognize how clueless they were.15 An example of this failure radiates in Flora Shaw’s A Tropical Dependency, in which the author, a Governor’s wife in colonial Nigeria, expressed a ­well-​­worn view of “­colored labor, without the control which the master exercises over the slave, has its peculiar difficulties.”16 By “­labor,” Shaw meant wage labor, which made entry in Africa on a whip, separated families and fractured social systems, nurtured and sustained Western capitalism, deepened the colonized distrust of European intentions and programs, and, as Walter Rodney eloquently stated, “­underdeveloped” the continent.17 To escape from this humiliation and curb its spread and entrenchment, African wage laborers created the “­d ifficulties” that Shaw alluded to by feigning sickness, absconding work, and running away. Perhaps Karen Blixen, the Danish fictional writer, was the most conspicuous European female settler in colonial Kenya. Blixen arrived in Kenya from Denmark

274  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

in December 1913 to join her fiancée, the Swedish Baron Bror ­Blixen-​­Finecke. They married the following year in Mombasa and acquired “­six thousand acres of land, and had thus got much spare land besides the ­coffee-​­plantation”18 at the foot of the Ngong Hills. In Out of Africa, a memoir that Hollywood memorialized under the same title in 1985, Blixen discussed at length the African families that squatted on her farm and the staff that kept clean what appeared then to be a ­state-­​­­of-­​­­the-​­art home (­­Figures 16.1 and 16.2). She encouraged children belonging to “­my squatters,” like Kamante, “­a small Kikuyu boy,” to “­work for me on the farm.”19 Kamante worked “­a s a d­ og-​­toto” on Blixen’s farm and later assisted her in treating Africans (­Blixen confessed to being a “­quack” who “­k new very little of doctoring, just what you learn at a first aid course”20). Blixen loved Kenya. “­Here I am, where I ought to be,”21 she remarked about her happy stay in the country, despite her craggy marital life that brought her syphilis before ending in divorce. Her avowed love for the country did not go unnoticed, and when she left for Denmark in 1931, a concerned Jomo Kenyatta, Kenya’s first postcolonial African president, sent her a handwritten note from

­FIGURE 16.1 Karen Blixen’s staff. From left to right: Kamande, Isa, Abdulahi, Ismael,

and Juma with his daughter Mwanahawa. Photo. KBM.

­FIGURE 16.2 Blixen’s home in Ngong. Built in 1912, the house is now a Karen Blixen

Museum. Photo by the author, 2019.

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  275

London encouraging her to “­kumbuka nchi na wanainchi waliomo” (“­remember the country and its people”).22 Finally, in addition to women who came as dependents of their husbands or unmarried evangelists and baronesses, other white women arrived to fulfill their own curiosities about Africa and Africans. Curious to witness the Mau Mau war of the 1950s and “­much wickedness in Kenya,” P. M. Hubbard from London, who described herself as “­a simple woman,” came to “­see it.”23 Unlike the “­women of the empire”24 who preceded her and supported the British government in its effort to defeat Mau Mau and annihilate this “­terrorist” group, Hubbard questioned the “­white men” in power and their failure to make “­friends with Mau Mau before they started on the shooting.”25 She bemoaned the lost opportunity where the British colonial leadership “­could have talked” with Jomo Kenyatta “­in dignity and simple grandeur.”26 Unwittingly, Hubbard exposed herself as a consumer of British colonial propaganda, but she pretended to fi ­ nger-​­wag her source of information in daylight. Indeed, it is the government that authored the narrative insinuating that Kenyatta was a Mau Mau leader. In the real sense, and according to an informant and former Mau Mau fighter and member, “­Kenyatta was not a Mau Mau member or activist.”27 Nonetheless, Hubbard was appalled by white men in Kenya who claimed to be “­standing on a right when their right is obviously nil.” She correctly observed that “­white men are always wicked in anything to do with black men. And vested interests evil when the other side don’t wear vests [sic].”28 In many ways, Hubbard echoed the opinion of a tiny class of European women who went against the colony’s ­socio-​­political milieu. It becomes apparent, at least from Hubbard’s tenor against the men running colonial affairs in Kenya, that prior to her arrival she had not read Are You Coming to Kenya?, a guide for women settlers that the East Africa Women’s League compiled. The booklet targeted white woman in Britain, who planned on making their lives in Kenya, in the hope that it would provide a clear picture of the conditions that they would find there. It was first published in 1948 and during the Mau Mau war in the 1950s. Had Hubbard read it, she would have learned that: the Mau Mau rising has naturally accelerated the speed of [political plans for development], while perhaps retarding, in some cases, the will of all races to work together; but more than ever does the progress of our peoples depend on European leadership …. And even if you are not politically minded, you will find, if you come here, that Kenya will demand of you a high sense of responsibility, a respect for humanity, and a sense of humor. The other races look to every one of us as examples of the new way of life they are trying to follow [emphasis added].29 When white women in the colony talked about “­European leadership,” they meant white men’s leadership, and to question colonial men “­on the spot” was to question the appointing authority in Britain, the reigning monarch, and the Union Jack that stood for imperial pride and conquest. Judging from the women’s

276  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

unsolicited advice, they placed themselves above nonwhites, the “­other races” that included Indians and Africans. Put differently, Hubbard had undermined the imperial hierarchical order by intimating that the ­m ale-​­dominated administration in Kenya should have conferenced with the very people described in the booklet as admirers of British ways of life. Extant scholarship on colonial Kenya has largely focused on white men, African men and women, and Asian men, particularly of Indian heritage, brought in by the British government as part of the labor force on the K ­ enya-​­Uganda railroad in 1895. Prior to this period, however, Indian merchants had established themselves along the East African coast for a long time.30 Many Indian artisans and laborers employed to construct the railroad “­remained to engage in commerce”31 after the project was completed in 1901 in Kenya and 1903 in Uganda. Over the years, their numbers increased with the arrival of artisans, clerks, and small traders who voyaged across the Indian Ocean to join them and lay the foundation for trade and other businesses that placed Indians in the second tier on the socioeconomic pyramid (­whites occupied the top tier and Africans sat at the bottom). Because the contours informing interracial unions were hazy, and the unions themselves proved socially and culturally problematic to explain, Indian men travelled back home to get married. They brought their wives on their return journeys but sent their children back to India for studies.32 These women, however, are missing in the discourse of colonial Kenya, yet their status allowed them to sit on censorship boards during the period when African women appeared to their white tormentors as “­still at a very primitive stage in tier development …”33 One obvious reason why ordinary Indian women are absent in scholarship is their absence in official documents. Scholars who employ official documents in archives to reconstruct Kenya’s past historical events often run into rich textual materials that describe the encounter between the colonizer and colonized. Because Indians hardly identified with the two categories, their women had little contact with colonial officials, whose obsession with Africans meant that they had little or nothing to write about the Indian residents. However, nothing explains why their presence in colonial Kenya failed to attract the attention of those who lived among them or enjoyed their company. Examples include Blixen and Pio Gama Pinto. In Out of Africa, Blixen described having “­­tea-​­parties” with “­h ighly polite” Indian ­men—​­Jevanjee, Suleiman Virjee, Allidina ­Visram—​­“ ­in their gardens, with Indian pastry in the style of the Villas.”34 Blixen did not mention Indian women. Neither did she say who brought the tea and pastry, an omission that provides a fertile ground on which to speculate that perhaps Indian women retreated into the background during private and public functions. In Glimpses of Kenya’s Nationalist Struggle, Pinto, a nationalist of Indian ancestry in Kenya, omitted Indian women, yet he begins the study with the railroad project that facilitated their entry into the country. Unlike Indian men who openly expressed their irritation with colonial systems and programs through letters to newspaper editors and involvement in political ­activism—​­like Pinto

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  277

­h imself—​­Indian women shied away from bright social and political spotlights. It seems, at least from Blixen’s account, that they lurked in the shadows, and from this position, concentrated on nurturing and raising their children, acted as the glue that kept the family intact, and supported their husbands’ socioeconomic and political dreams.

Film Censorship Cinema and colonialism emerged concurrently in the late nineteenth century. In Africa, both attempted, in multiple ways, to appeal to their “­spectators” and “­colonized subjects.” On the one hand, cinema dramatized stories and presented them to viewers in picture form, a technique that endeared itself to African audiences, especially children, who adopted the roles of Western characters from popular Hollywood or kung fu films.35 According to Jean Pierre Bekolo’s grandfather, “­a long time back we [Africans] knew that thing they call cinema in Africa.”36 The “­thing” that fascinated Bekolo’s grandfather also inspired a generation of young Africans to cross the Atlantic for the West “­to learn the language of cinema” and deepen their understanding of this “­medium known as film … to better elaborate analyses and investigation of the perception of Africa held in Western countries.”37 They brought back the acquired knowledge and produced films that dramatized the African experience from an African point of view. On the other hand, colonial officials in Kenya did not immediately consider cinema as a tool through which to articulate their imperial vision until 1926, when Dr. Arthur Rutherford Paterson (­from the Kenya Department of Medical and Sanitary Service) directed and released Harley Street in the Bush, a film about reducing hookworms in Coast Province.38 Instead, the government stuck to its familiar methods of barazas (­­face-­​­­to-​­face formal meetings with Africans), practical techniques in agriculture and healthcare management, and pamphlets. Africans who endured this version of communication described it as “­confusing” and expressed their dissatisfaction with the government’s cavalier approach to complex issues concerning their lives. In one instance, an incensed African summed up the confusion to a government official this way: …we are encouraged to plant maize and cotton to replace our old crops. We now find that our old crops such as wimpi [which should be spelled wimbi, millet in Swahili] matama [sorghum] and mwele [pearl millet], still give us more food in bad years. We were told to plant flat white maize. We know now that the yellow or even our old hybrid maize gives more crop in dry years. We know now that cotton should not be grown. Why are we told to do things that are wrong? Some Europeans tell us to do this, some to do that. The policy seems to change from year to year [emphasis added].39 Unfazed, the government left intact its style of storytelling but added, in 1926, didactic films before launching an ambitious mobile cinema program during

278  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

World War II. Even as it turned to educational cinema to express its imperial ideas in farming, healthcare management, and labor, the government kept control of the ongoing relationship between Africans and commercial films by way of censorship, a process that began in earnest in 1912 and one that the postcolonial African government retained after the country’s independence in 1963. It should not be construed to mean that ­non-​­Africans were spared the outcome of censored films. Europeans and Asians also endured the pain of banned films and expressed this frustration in the local dailies. The irony is that censorship advocates in and outside the government believed this category of cinema consumer, particularly Europeans, possessed a superior cinema vocabulary and was less gullible; therefore, this demographic could understand storylines in censored films. They strongly believed that films with “­d readful sordid” themes “… have a very bad effect on s­emi-​­educated audiences of all races, and more particularly on the African cinemagoer upon whom we are constantly impressing the need for moral uplift based on our won shining example.”40 Such films, they added, were “­made for Europeans” and “­they alone” could “­understand” them. “­The members of other races [especially Africans] must be excluded.”41 Put differently, and, according to the colonial grammar of the time implying that African brains “­had stopped to develop at puberty,”42 Africans needed to be shielded from diabolical artistic imagination. As a new form of storytelling, cinema created anxiety among colonial officials, especially the “­morally upright” who considered Hollywood’s commercial films depicting romance, fights, theft, and other “­unacceptable” social behaviors as harmful to Africans. Dispensing the displeasure in a racialized pill purporting that Africans were impressionable and could easily take as true these dramatized fictional messages, they moved in haste to contain the real or imagined fallout. Of course, the fallout would have disrupted the colonial logic of the “­civilizing mission”—​­a rationale for intervening and colonizing Africa, proposing to spread Western civilization to indigenous populations. Consequently, it would have corrupted the character of “­a good” African who surrendered to the law, embraced wage labor and paid taxes, and demonstrated the willingness to acquire new knowledge in farming, healthcare, and labor. Above all, the fallout would have undermined the romanticized notion of an obedient, dutiful, subservient, and ­law-​­abiding African in a country that appeared to Westerners as home to a “­party of wild men.”43 Viewed in this context, officials held themselves as avuncular figureheads and guardians of Africans’ moral codes, an assumption so profound that it became the foundation on which the first censorship law stood. Enacted on 16 October 1912 by the Governor of the East Africa Protectorate with the Legislative Council’s advice and consent, “­The Stage Plays and Cinematography Exhibitions Ordinance, 1912” became law as soon as the Governor placed notice in the gazette. Ambitious in scope but ambiguous in meaning, the new censorship law focused largely on stage plays and cinematography. It defined stage plays as comedy, farce, opera, burletta, interlude, melodrama, pantomime, dialogue, prologue,

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  279

and epilogue. Rather confusingly, cinema appeared to the ordinance framers as “­pictures or other optical effects presented by means of a cinematograph or other similar apparatus.”44 Working with a narrow conceptual view of what constituted theater, the law’s architects thought artistic performances occurred only in enclosed spaces, a shallow understanding that limited their definition to “­any building, tent or other erection, open to the public, gratuitously or otherwise, where a stage play or cinematograph exhibition is performed or presented.”45 By limiting expressive art to circumscribed spaces that were easy to surveil on unsuspecting patrons, the government was set to control both the content and its consumers. The most intriguing section of the new law, and perhaps the most ambiguous in the entire document, dealt with the question of “­l icensing officers” or in other words, censurers. Without clearly defining the officers, their expertise and background in cinema, academic qualifications, nature of their responsibilities, and what they were expected to ban or cut from films, the law simply described them as “­such person[s] as the Governor shall by notice appoint for the purposes of this Ordinance.”46 It did not provide additional information beyond this description, something that would later frustrate white audiences who wanted to know the qualifications of those who banned “­our films.” At its core, the ordinance forbade those who hoped to direct, take part, or assist in the performance of stage play or any cinematograph exhibition without first obtaining a license from the licensing officer. For censorship purposes, the law directed play producers to submit one copy of every stage play to the licensing officer with the name of the theatre where the performance was to be held and the time of the performance. Extending beyond stage play, the law required “­a descriptive title of every [motion] picture or series of pictures intended to be presented at any cinematograph exhibition”47 to be sent to the licensing officer. In addition to vetting scripts, licensing officers showed up at theaters without prior notice and “­inspected” films before issuing a license, and they could also refuse to grant licenses. If the law appeared ambiguous on some key provisions, it was unequivocal on gender. Without necessarily employing the common nouns of “­men” and “­women,” the ordinance, by referring to a licensing officer as “­to him may seem fit [emphasis added],”48 suggests that men made up the inaugural class of censorship officials. Throughout the document, the pronouns “­h im” and “­he” appear repeatedly, further exemplifying that in the first seventeen years of colonial rule, the men running the country hardly considered gender equity in the censorship boardroom. This was a classic example of a “­European leadership” running through a masculine artery. Viewed this way, white men were the first to censor motion pictures and left behind a blueprint that women adopted and rigidified. Although it is unclear when women first joined the exclusive censorship club, it is clear that, by 1929, the government had begun to pay attention to their [white women’s] views on censorship, and the following year considered women for censorship work.49 Women’s involvement in censorship crystallized in 1930 through the

280  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

“­Cinematograph Film Censorship Rules, 1930,” which established a Film Censorship Board consisting of a Chairman, Chief Native Commissioner, Director of Education, and “­a panel of ten European women, six Indian women and two Africans, to be appointed by the Governor.”50 Before we delve into the inclusion of women on the Board and the manner in which they approached censorship, it is worth mentioning that a provision in Rules 1930 allowed for films to be banned for African audiences only. The provision stayed in place for ten years until 1940, the “­last occasion a film [Her Last Desire] was banned for exhibition to African audiences only (­Her Last Desire was considered ‘­unsuitable for showing to Africans because of its depiction of crime and violence’).”51 It took seven years before the government finally amended the provision to allow the Board the freedom to “­judge films entirely on their suitability for showing to the general public regardless of race or creed.”52 In many ways, this provision merely responded to the June 1927 recommendations of the Select Committee on Film Censorship in Kenya, which recommended, inter alia, racial separation in cinema theaters. Africans, the committee suggested, “­should have separate picture halls set aside for their use, halls to which members of other races would not be allowed admittance … films to be shown in these halls should be subject to a special form of censorship.”53 Segregationist policies and recommendations like these bothered some colonial officials, who expressed concerns about a lack of “­a much more positive policy regarding films” for Africans. E. F. Twining, who worked as a film censor in Uganda, warned that the colonial project had “­removed, or restricted, all their [African] common and natural pleasures and relaxations”54 without replacing them with something substantial. Following the amendment in Kenya, Twining, in a prophetic manner, added that colonialism had made “­life so dull” for Africans and forewarned of an impending “­d isaster.” True to his words, the Mau Mau war of land and freedom erupted shortly thereafter. Significantly, Rules 1930 directed the appointment of Africans, but by 1946, “­no Africans” had “­been appointed to the panel as yet,” because there lacked “­circumstances generally regarded as making African representation on the panel desirable.”55 In addition, the gender identity of the two Africans mentioned in the Rules 1930 was left unattended. However, when the Board finally admitted Africans for the first time in May 1956, it appointed two men.56 Unsurprisingly, African women were last to join the Board. “­I am advised that you are agreeable to serve as a panel member of the Film Censorship Board,”57 wrote A. C. C. Swann, Minister for Defense, to Mrs. Charles Rubia (­Hannah Muthoni Rubia) in 1961. Swann was “­g rateful” that “­madam” had accepted the offer and immediately appointed her to the panel. Hon. Mrs. Priscilla I. Abwao also received a similar letter, this time from H. D. Dent of the Ministry of Defense. Abwao accepted the offer but added that she would only attend the Board’s functions in the mornings because she did not want them to conflict with her Legislative Council functions.58 The sudden interest in African women joining the Board came on the heels of a fierce debate in Parliament about the Board’s “­racial composition,”

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  281

“­composition,” and “­quorum”59 in June 1961. Parliament wanted Swann, who was present and took questions, to assure its members that “­in the selection of members for the new Board there will be equal representation for all races.”60 Swann agreed, and he assured parliament that “­a ll races” would be represented on the Board. To fulfill this assurance, he directed his subordinates to identify “­suitable” African women for the job. They did exactly that, and contacted Abwao that same month and then Mrs. Rubia in September. At the end of June, Swann’s ministry released a list of Board members. Not surprisingly, white men held the first four top positions that included the chairman (­Col. M. S. O’Rourke), Deputy Chairman (­M r. B. R. Durlancher), Director of Education, and Chief Commissioner. Of the four, only the chair and his deputy censored films, but they received enormous help from “­busybodies,” to use C. H. B. Claydon’s phrase referring to women on the Board.61 This group comprised thirteen white and fifteen Indian women, three Africans (­of the three, two were women; Abwao was one of them), and three Arab males. An examination of the Parliamentary debate’s outcome, and Swann’s swift embrace of a balanced composition, reveals that before 1961, the Censorship Board had not considered African women (­the summary below underscores this oversight). Year

Women

Men

1960

Thirteen whites Thirteen Asians Twelve whites Thirteen Asians

Three Arabs One African (­Zablon Oti) One African (­Zablon Oti No Arabs62

1959

Except for the four white men at the top, ordinary white and Indian men ignored the government’s call to serve on the Board, because, as Swann had explained in Parliament, “­we do find great difficulty in getting panel members because they are not paid and to give up half a morning a week is not always very easy.”63 The Board met once a week, but when the chair and his ­deputy—​­and the other ­non-​­European ­m ales—​­excused themselves (­something that occurred frequently), the women ran the show and made all the censorship decisions. Nonetheless, like the 1912 law that vested appointing power in the Governor, Rules 1930 did the same, but by 1946, the Governor ceded this authority to the Board’s chair. Surprisingly, the chair seemed unprepared when it came to appointing women. He had little knowledge about women in the colony, including white women. To solve this dilemma, he consulted the East African Women’s League with respect to white women censurers and the Indian Panel members with respect to Indian women. Moving much closer to the center of political power, the East African Women’s League took advantage of the chair’s limited knowledge to nominate its own representatives to the Film Censorship Board.64 Over the years, women increased in numbers, and by 1961, “­90 per

282  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

cent of the 40 members who ma[d]e … the daily viewing boards [were] women and although there [was] no pay more men [were] wanted.”65 Indeed, there were “­so many women on the Kenya Film Censorship Board,” observed the Sunday Nation, “­that they could have ganged up on the Chief Censor and demanded that The Magnificent Seven be banned from Kenya’s cinema.”66 But they allowed the film to go forward because they “­d id not think that” the level of violence in it was “­injurious to Africans, except those under ten years of age.”67 Having secured remarkable numerical strength and unfettered power to “­control your screen taste,”68 women approached censorship with a certain bravado that infuriated viewers and surprised government officials. These women, wrote a concerned official, took “­an ­old-​­fashioned view” of censorship and “­ban[ned] too many films for Africans.”69 Mr. Drake’s Duck, for example, was banned because it “­was unsuitable for Nairobi audiences,” 70 yet it enjoyed rave reviews in Britain. The River and Outcast of the Islands, an adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s book bearing the same title, failed to meet the Board’s guidelines and the women’s standard of decency, prompting an exasperated viewer to suggest that banning films had turned into a “­monotonously frequent hobby of this body.” 71 Because the Board did not always inform the public of its decision about a specific film, and neither did theater companies run advertisements in newspapers to stop consumers from patronizing their premises for a film that had been banned, consumers would only find out about a ban at the theater. “­On going to the booking office at the Empire Theatre,” Derry Quin “­was informed that this film [Mr. Drake’s Duck] had been banned.” 72 Quin did not reveal the leisurely activity he turned to after the disappointment, but it is obvious that his freedom to choose the elements constituting his leisure was restricted. His experience further suggests that women censurers played a significant role in effecting the restriction. By banning films, they controlled a critical element encompassing leisure and entertainment in colonial Kenya. Ironically, the films that most viewers thought should be banned, such as Duel in the Sun, passed the censorship scrutiny but sparked anger, mostly from white and Indian men who seemed oblivious to their women’s role on the Board and in the censorship industry. While some called for “­a review of the whole [Censorship Board] positions,” 73 others questioned the Board members’ “­qualifications” and wanted to know “­who” these “­people” were to be “­entrusted with this debatable and delicate duty of censorship.” 74 Angered by the fact that censorship emerged “­in order to protect from harm the supposedly childlike African” yet it affected “­hundreds of educated people” 75 who gave up the experience of seeing the finest films, the men condemned the z­ ero-​­tolerance approach and asked the government to end it. In their mind, censorship violated their right to leisure, but they hardly understood that the violation stemmed from the imagined anxiety consuming their cousins in power, a profound anxiety that their own women had volunteered to calm. Increasingly, they attacked the Board, even after the East African Standard, a sympathetic colonial newspaper that offered them a full page of letters to the editor through which to express their views, when they informed

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  283

the nation that generally “­a film is banned if the ladies say so.” 76 This information, however, sounded to them like background noise. One week after the newspaper’s story about women’s majority on the Board and the Board’s appeal for men to consider serving, Davis, a concerned writer, wrote in the same daily to reveal that he did “­not know any of the members of the censorship board,” questioned their qualifications, and concluded by stating that he did “­not know what gives them the right to tell me what I may be allowed to see or not see.” 77 An examination of the contours informing censorship in colonial Kenya reveals a disturbing trend, one that soon became the source of anger among film consumers. For twelve years (­­1947–​­59), the women on the Board banned 95 films. They classified their reasons for refusing to issue licenses under the following general rubrics: On average, they banned eight films per year, making it less likely for a lo(­a) (­b) (­c) (­d) (­e) (­f )

Offending against decency Likely to offend against religious feeling Exemplifying racial discrimination On the grounds of excessive cruelty Likely to undermine law and order Unclassified Total

19 10 24 19 4 19 9578

cal film enthusiast to engage in an informed conversation about specific films and the industry in general. Lagging behind their counterparts in Europe and North America in cinema knowledge, local film consumers with associates overseas turned to them for information, but also relied on those among them who had watched new releases while abroad. They understood the Board’s work, but framed it as a violation of their rights, leisure, freedom of choice, and entitlement as members of “­our superior race.” The framing convinced them that Kenya was autocratic and that dictatorship was gawking at them. “­This,” one of them lashed out at the government, “­is not a dictator country,” and he considered himself “­entitled to an explanation from these responsible [presumably the Board] as to the reason for banning … films that many of us have looked forward to seeing.” 79 In both tone and argument, the stern rebuke from white viewers against a government they thought harbored good intentions for them embodied censorship’s unintended consequences. When the men’s rebuke is examined in the context of gender theory, the white ­m ale-​­dominated government used the Censorship Board to exercise hegemonic masculinity, a form of masculinity that oppresses women but also: silences or subordinates other masculinities, positioning these in relation to itself such that the values expressed by these other masculinities are not those that have currency or legitimacy. In turn, it presents its own version

284  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

of masculinity, of how men should behave and how putative ‘­real men’ do behave, as the cultural ideal.80

Conclusion Scholars of colonial Kenya tend to shine a bright spotlight on the interplay between a tiny class of white men exercising power and African men and women expected to comply with it.81 Based on the recent uptick in studies focusing on Asian men and African children, it is encouraging that Africanists are finally beginning to turn their scholarly attention to these two constituents.82 However, often left on the margins of historical discourse are white and Asian women in the colony who, as this chapter has attempted to demonstrate, wielded the power that shaped the social (­cinematic) landscape in the colony. Adopting and sharpening the censorship blueprint bequeathed to them by white ­men—​­who engineered the practice to address their own anxieties—​­white and Indian women volunteered to calm the uneasiness. With staggering numerical strength on the Censorship Board, they applied a ­zero-​­tolerance approach to censorship, one that concerned some colonial officials and irritated film enthusiasts, especially white and Asian men. Banning commercial films that offended their sensibilities, they also cut objectionable scenes in films that made it onto the screen. Of course, the practice attracted ridicule and earned them the dubious title of gatekeepers of cinematic consumption, but they endured to fulfill their dreams as the goddesses and protectors of African morals and values. The endurance yielded a rigid blueprint that the incoming class of African male nationalists adopted almost in its entirety, the difference, of course, being the altered gender equilibrium on the Censorship Board.

Notes 1 Elizabeth G. Davis, “­Censorship Barriers are Falling,” Nation, October 29, 1961. Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13. Kenya National Archives (­K NA), NRB. 2 Ibid. 3 James M. Burns, Flickering Shadows: Cinema and Identity in Colonial Zimbabwe (­Athens: Center for International Studies, Ohio University, 2002). 4 Louis S. B. Leakey, White African (­New York: Ballantine Books, 1966), 2. 5 Ibid., 3. 6 Helen Callaway, Gender, Culture and Empire: European Women in Colonial Nigeria (­Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1987), 6. 7 Jane Haggis, “­Gendering Colonialism or Colonizing Gender?: Recent Women’s Studies Approaches to White Women and the History of British Colonialism,” Women Studies International 13(­1/­2), 1990: 108. 8 Press Office Handout No. 163. His Excellency Sir Philip Mitchell’s Farewell Message to All Members of the Public Service, June 20, 1952. ­Information—​­Handouts: AB/­ 11/­6, KNA, NRB. 9 Leakey, White African, 11. 10 Ibid., 30.

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  285

11 Isak Dinesen [Karen Blixen], Out of Africa (­New York: Random House, 1937), 3. 12 Garth A. Myers, Verandahs of Power: Colonialism and Space in Urban Africa (­New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003). 13 Tabitha Kanogo, Squatters & Roots of Mau Mau: 1 ­ 905–​­1963 (­Athens: Ohio University Press, 1987); Wangari Maathai, Unbowed: A Memoir (­New York: Anchor Books, 2006); Ngugi wa Thiong’o, Weep Not, Child (­Oxford: Macmillan, 1964). 14 Callaway, Gender, Culture and Empire, 4. 15 Elizabeth Mancke, “­ Early Modern Expansion and the Politicization of Oceanic Space,” Geographical Review 89(­2), 1999: 227. 16 Flora L. Shaw, A Tropical Dependency (­L ondon: James Nisbet, 1905), 3. 17 Walter Rodney, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (­Washington, DC: Howard University Press, 1982); Ngugi wa Thiong’o and Ngugi wa Mirii, I Will Marry When I Want (­Oxford: Heinemann, 1982); Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (­New York: Grove Press, 1963); E. D. Morel, The Black Man’s Burden: The White Man in Africa from the Fifteenth Century to World War I (­New York and London: Modern Reader, 1969). 18 Dinesen [Blixen], Out of Africa, 9. 19 Ibid., 22. 20 Ibid., 24. 21 Ibid., 4. 22 Jomo Kenyatta to Karen Blixen, “­ Kwa Rafiki,” August 3, 1937, Karen Blixen Museum (­K BM), Kenya. 23 Philip M. Hubbard, PC/­NZA/­2/­6/­30/­Approved Schools. KNA, NRB. 24 Callaway, Gender, Culture and Empire, 3. 25 Hubbard, PC/­NZA/­2/­6/­30/­Approved Schools. KNA, NRB. 26 Ibid. 27 Wilson Maina Macharia, interview, Nairobi, Kenya, June 2016. 28 Hubbard, PC/­NZA/­2/­6/­30/­Approved Schools. KNA, NRB. 29 Are You Coming to Kenya?: A Guide for the Woman Settler (­September 1956) 6. GSBB/­81/ East Africa Women’s League. NMK, NRB. 30 Devonshire, “­Indians in Kenya” ( ­July 20, 1923), The National Archives (­TNA), CAB/­24/­161. 31 Ibid. 32 Pio Gama Pinto, Glimpses of Kenya’s Nationalist Struggle (­Nairobi: Asian African Heritage Trust, 1963). 39. 33 Are You Coming to Kenya?: A Guide for the Woman Settler. GSBB/­81/ East Africa Women’s League. NMK, NRB. 34 Blixen, Out of Africa, 14. 35 Kenya did not have a law forbidding cinema theaters from admitting children, whether accompanied by their parents or not. Unaccompanied minors “­about seven to ten years of age” frequented cinema theaters. Squeamish, “­Film Censorship,” The East African Standard (­April 10, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. Squeamish attended film showings in Kenya and wrote to the editor of the East African Standard about unaccompanied children “­following every act of the film but thoroughly enjoying the shooting, especially when blood was drawn.” The eldest boy would run the commentary inside the theater. 36 Jean Pierre Bekolo, “­A ristotle’s Plot,” in Maureen Eke, Kenneth W. Harrrow, and Emmanuel Yewah (­eds.), African Images: Recent Studies and Text in Cinema (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2000), 19. 37 Debra Boyd, “­Gaston Kabore Interviewed,” in Maureen Eke, Kenneth W. Harrrow, and Emmanuel Yewah (­eds.), African Images: Recent Studies and Text in Cinema (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2000), 32. 38 Arthur M. Champion, “­Confidential Report of Government Cinema Unit; For ­Week-​­Ending, Sunday, 9 March 1941,” Propaganda Kenya Film, CO875/­6/­18, TNA;

286  Samson Kaunga Ndanyi

Glenn Reynolds, Colonial Cinema in Africa: Origins, Images, Audiences ( ­Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2015), 165; Rosaleen Smyth, “­The Development of British Colonial Film Policy, 1­ 927–​­1939, with Special Reference to East and Central Africa,” The Journal of African History 20(­3), 1979: 440; J. Russell Orr, “­The Use of the Kinema in the Guidance of Backward Races,” Journal of the Royal African Society 30(­120), July 1931: 242. Femi Okiremuete Shaka observes that L. A. Notcutt had been experimenting with instructional films in 1926. Working as a sisal plantation manager in East Africa, Notcutt: thought that an estate cinema might be an effective method of maintaining a contented labor force … he made a few films with Africans as actors and was surprised that they were well received. It then occurred to him that there might be commercial possibilities in the development of a native cinema. Modernity and the African Cinema, 160. However, there is no evidence supporting the argument that Notcutt made instructional films in East Africa and Shaka does not provide examples of the films he alludes to. 39 Major W. S. MacLellan Wilson, “­Confidential Report” ( ­July 31, 1946), Information and Propaganda for Africans HAKI/­13/­229, KNA, NRB. 40 Visor, “­Film Censorship,” The East African Standard (­April 4, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 41 Ibid. 42 The East African Standard, “­The Brain of an African” (­February 9, 1934), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 43 Leakey, White African, 11. 44 East Africa Protectorate: Ordinances and Regulations, Vol. XIV KNA, NRB. 45 Ibid. 46 Ibid. 47 Ibid. 48 Ibid. 49 The East African Standard, “­Film Censorship,” January 12, 1929. McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 50 J. E. S. Merrick, “­ The Stage Plays and Cinematograph Exhibitions Ordinance: Rules” (­September 6, 1930) Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13, KNA, NRB. 51 Governor, “­Parliamentary Questions: Banning of Films” ( ­June 27, 1959), Film Censorship in Kenya CO 1027/­98, The National Archives, London. 52 Governor, “­Parliamentary Questions: Banning of Films” ( ­June 27, 1959), Film Censorship in Kenya CO 1027/­98, The National Archives, London. 53 G. V. Maxwell, T. Fitzgerald, and H. E. Schwartze, Report on Select Committee on Film Censorship CO533/­371/­11, TNA. 54 E. F. Twining to Blackburne (­April 20, 1950), Colonial Film Unit: East Africa Project CO875/­52/­4: TNA. 55 Film Censorship Boards, “­Your Circular Saving Telegram of the 23 of July,” (­October 28, 1946), Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13, KNA, NRB. 56 Governor, “­Parliamentary Questions: Banning of Films,” Film Censorship in Kenya CO 1027/­98, TNA. 57 A. C. C. Swann to Mrs. Charles Rubia (­September 30, 1961). Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13. 58 Priscilla Abwao to H. D. Dent ( ­July 7, 1961) Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13. KNA, NRB. 59 Question no. 66 ( ­June 13, 1961), Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13, KNA, NRB. 60 Ibid.

Women and Film Censorship in Kenya, 1912–1963  287

61 C. H. B. Claydon, “­Film Censorship,” East African Standard (­May 24, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 62 Boards and ­Committees—​­Ministry of Defense as of December 30, 1960, Films Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13, KNA, NRB. 63 Swann, “­Question number 66” ( ­June 13, 1961), Films Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13, KNA, NRB. 64 Are You Coming to Kenya? GSBB/­81/ East Africa Women’s League. NMK, NRB. 65 Mike Harris, “­A Film is Banned if the Ladies Say So,” Sunday Nation, October 22, 1961. Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­ 2/­ 13. KNA, NRB. 66 Ibid. 67 Ibid. 68 Ibid. 69 Circular from the Secretariat to Provincial Commissioners, “­The Cinematograph Films Censorship Rules, 1930” (­October 22, 1945), Stage and Cinema General, PC/­NZA/­2/­7/­92, KNA, NRB. 70 Derry Quin, “­ Film Censorship,” The East African Standard ( ­ January 18, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 71 Unidentified writer, “­Film Censorship” The East African Standard ( ­June 3, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 72 Quin, “­Film Censorship.” 73 Vizor, “­Film Censorship,” The East African Standard (­April 4, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi. 74 Davis, “­Censorship Barriers Are Falling,” Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13. KNA, NRB. 75 C. H. B. Claydon, “­Film Censorship,” East African Standard (­May 24, 1952), McMillan Library, Nairobi, Kenya. 76 Harris, “­A Film is Banned if the Ladies Say So,” Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13. KNA, NRB. 77 Davis, “­Censorship Barriers Are Falling,” Nation, October 29, 1961. Films: Boards and Committee. Film Censorship Boards KA/­2/­13. KNA, NRB. 78 Governor, “­Parliamentary Questions: Banning of Films,” Film Censorship in Kenya CO 1027/­98, TNA. 79 Quin, “­Film Censorship.” 80 Robert Morrell, Rachel Jewkes, and Graham Lindegger, “­ Hegemonic Masculinity/­Masculinities in South Africa: Culture, Power, and Gender Politics,” Men and Masculinities 15(­1), 2012: 20. 81 See, for example, Julie MacArthur and Willy Mutunga (­ed.), Dedan Kimathi on Trial: Colonial Justice and Popular Memory in Kenya’s Mau Mau Rebellion (­Athens: Ohio University Press, 2017); Tabitha Kanogo, African Womanhood in Colonial Kenya, 1 ­ 900–​ ­1950 (­Athens: Ohio University Press, 2005); and Louise White, The Comforts of Home: Prostitution in Colonial Nairobi (­Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1990). 82 Examples include Shiraz Durrani (­ed.), Pio Gama Pinto: Kenya’s Unsung Martyr, ­1927–​ ­1965 (­Nairobi, Kenya: Vita Books, 2018); Samson K. Ndanyi, “‘­The Cinema is a Great Influence in the Life of the Modern Child’: Instructional Cinema and Child Spectators in Colonial Kenya, 1­926–​­1963” (­PhD dissertation, Indiana University, 2018).

EPILOGUE Africana Studies: Looking Back to Confront the Future Adebayo Oyebade

Introduction Western epistemologies had for a long time in the history of scholarship denied the existence, validity, or legitimacy of African indigenous ways of knowing. However, the African world predating European intrusion was never lacking in knowledge systems and modalities of knowledge production. Indeed, indigenous epistemologies had always been an integral part of African historical and cultural reality, amply demonstrated in all parts of the continent. To cite a few examples, the Dogon of West Africa had vast knowledge of astrophysics. The Yoruba, also of West Africa, were famous for their sophisticated divination corpus, the ifa. In Southern Africa, the Shona, builders of Great Zimbabwe, were noted for sophisticated graphite stone building technology. Indigenous knowledge system was also not alien to translocated Africans in the New World. Indigenous healing and prophylactic therapy through herbal practice among enslaved Africans is well documented in the African American historiography.1 But the systematic academic study of the black experience in its varied dimensions has a rather young history of just over half a century. The era of decolonization in Africa and the Civil Rights Movement in the United States saw steady and deliberate efforts at expanding the boundaries of knowledge about black people and their societies. Further, there was an effort to begin to Africanize such bodies of knowledge that had traditionally been held captive by Eurocentric postulations. What has come out of this intellectual revolution is the discipline referred to as “­A fricana Studies” in contemporary phraseology. It is an academic discipline which investigates the experiences of black people in Africa and its diasporas, especially North America. The field thus constitutes a multidisciplinary study of all facets of black humanities, including history, culture, language, religion, politics, economy, art, music, and philosophy. DOI: 10.4324/9781003293897-21

Epilogue: Africana Studies: Looking Back to Confront the Future  289

In seeking an understanding of the complex nature of the discipline, this volume explores its history, subject matter, mission, scope, methods, theories, and concepts. It also provides pertinent case studies. In different ways, the chapters in the book speak to the dynamics of knowledge production about Africa and the African diaspora from a framework that interrogates transformations in the discipline. In this task, a number of critical epistemological questions become apparent, which continue to evoke scholarly interests as the discipline develops further. One issue of continued interest is the question of the decolonization of the discipline. This question can be reframed thus: How African is Africana Studies as a discipline?2 Just as formal colonialism constructed structures of imperial domination in the m ­ etropolis-​­colony relationship, a parallel equation seems to pervade scholarship about Africa, some have argued.3 In one sense, Global North scholars have been accused of a paternalistic approach to the study of Africa through perspectives, theories, and discourses rooted in hegemonic Eurocentric epistemologies. In another dimension, themes in the scholarship produced in the Global North about Africa have seemed to focus more on political crises, economic failure, wars and violence, poverty, and other negativities, a subtle allusion to an alleged inherent African ineptitude. Perhaps the most vocal challenge to Eurocentric conceptualization of Africa and the way it has been studied has been posed by the Afrocentric project, although its attempt at theorization has equally evoked new questions, some of which have been addressed in this book. Nevertheless, a major thrust of the Afrocentric theory is to salvage Africana Studies from Eurocentric, hegemonic inferences. Afrocentrists theorize that a valid study of black people and their experiential realities must be located within an African agency and predicated entirely on the history and values of the people being studied. This, in the view of Molefi Asante and other Afrocentrists, is the only way to pursue an authentic study of any African phenomenon and arrive at a valid inference. The tension generated over the control of the study of Africa by scholars in the Global North is further expressed in how research result is disseminated. Scholars based in Africa have often underscored the monopoly exercised by white institutions in the Global North over avenues of research publication. Indeed, much of the material published on Africa in top journals with global circulation are works of academics outside the continent, most particularly from the United States and Europe.4 Journals published in these spaces and managed by editorial boards predominantly made up of white scholars are less accessible to ­A frica-​­based scholars and students. The lopsided geographical dominance in the arena of scholarly publication and production of knowledge is evident. But, the relatively small African representation in major journals can also be accounted for by the general decline in scholarship in many parts of the continent. Depressed economy in some African states has had a debilitating effect on the quality of education at all levels. Higher institutions have suffered from crumbling physical infrastructure; libraries have

290  Adebayo Oyebade

turned into archives for lack of u ­ p-­​­­to-​­date books and periodicals. Massive cuts in research funds have also negatively impacted the quality of research and general academic productivity. In addition, many governments have focused their attention on developing STEM subjects, neglecting the humanities. The downgrading of the humanities is quite evident in the widely reported case of the Nigerian government’s removal of history from the secondary school curriculum in 2007.5 Another issue of enduring relevance is how to integrate scholarship and activism in Africana Studies in a way that will not be detrimental to the integrity of the academic discipline. Public advocacy is a legitimate agency in scholarship, especially in a discipline which investigates the experiences of black people which, to a large extent, is defined by a history of racial oppression, particularly in the United States. It is thus understandable that the roots of Black Studies in America are grounded in black activism. Notable early African American scholars such as the great ­Pan-​­Africanist W.E.B. DuBois did combine activism with scholarship. Some contemporary intellectuals have followed suit, entrenching activism in their scholarship such that an interplay of scholarship and black radical engagement has been a dynamic feature of the black intellectual tradition and of the discipline of Africana Studies.6 Indeed, many in the a­ ctivist-​­scholar school hold the view that Africana Studies has a social responsibility for black empowerment, and thus must serve and promote the interest of black people. Nevertheless, in some of the writings produced by Africana Studies scholars, scholarship had at times somewhat played a second fiddle to activism. In a New York Times article on the debate over activism and scholarship in 1998, Harvard professor of African and African American Studies Henry Louis Gates, Jr. warned against “­the dangers of politicized scholarship” 7 which could occur when activism produces uncritical judgment or hypothesis in the garb of scholarship. Yet, for Africana Studies to remain relevant and a respected discipline in the academy, it must not lose focus of engaging with critical and rigorous research methodology and theoretical perspectives, the hallmark of authenticity and scholarship. The future of Africana Studies has also been a subject of contemporary dis­ alf-​­a century of existence as an academic field, the discipline has course. In its h made tremendous advancements in knowledge production about peoples and cultures of Africa and the African diaspora. Yet, like all disciplines, it has faced constraints. In the last few years, at least in the United States, it has seen contraction as programs have either been scrapped altogether or downgraded through merger with some other disciplines. Despite all challenges, the discipline continues to build new intellectual concepts and paradigms to promote knowledge on all aspects of African and diasporan existence. New themes have assumed mainstream subjects which have further enriched the field. For example, feminist/­womanist and sexuality discourses have become major subaltern fields of Africana Studies, especially in the Global North. In Africa, the emergence of sexuality studies, particularly as related to homosexual, bisexual, transgender, and queer (­LGBTQ) lifestyles in African societies, can be dated only to the 1990s.8 The relatively late

Epilogue: Africana Studies: Looking Back to Confront the Future  291

development of scholarship on this subject is not unconnected to LGBTQ and ­same-​­sex marriage homophobia on the continent. Indeed, in much of Africa, these forms of sexualities are still very much a taboo. Legislations criminalizing these lifestyles still stand in some countries, and this has undoubtedly restricted their academic study.

Notes 1 See, for instance, Michele Elizabeth Lee, Working the Roots: Over 400 Years of Traditional African American Healing (­Oakland, CA: Wadastick Publisher, 2017); and Sharla M. Fett, Working Cures: Healing, Health, and Power on Southern Slave Plantations (­Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2002). 2 The question is variably asked by Robtel Neajai, Parley, a Liberian academic/­activist, as “­W here Is the ‘­A frican’ in African Studies?” African Arguments, June 7, 2018, https://­a fricanarguments.org/­2016/­06/­­where-­​­­is-­​­­the-­​­­a frican-­​­­i n-­​­­a frican- ​­studies/ 3 For an example of a discussion on the marginalization of African scholars in Africana Studies, see Yusuf Serunkuma, “­ W here Are African Scholars in African Studies?” in Pambazuka News, December 16, 2016, https://­ w ww.pambazuka. org/­­pan-​­a fricanism/­­where-­​­­a re-­​­­a frican-­​­­scholars-­​­­a frican-​­studies. 4 This subject is discussed in Ryan C Briggs, Scott Weathers, “­Gender and Location in African Politics Scholarship: The Other White Man’s Burden?” African Affairs 115(­ 460), July 2016: ­466–​­89. 5 See, for instance, “­ H istory Removed from Nigerian Schools,” Shades of Noir, April 2, 2020, Retrieved January 12, 2022, at https://­shadesofnoir.org.uk/­­history-­​ ­­removed-­​­­f rom-­​­­n igerian-​­schools/; “­Nigeria Restores the Study of History in Public ­Schools—​­Absent for a Decade,” Amsterdam News, New York, July 3, 2019, Retrieved January 12, 2022, at https://­a msterdamnews.com/­news/­2019/­07/­03/­­n igeria-­​­­restores­​­­study-­​­­h istory-­​­­public-​­schoolsabsen/. 6 See Fabio Rojas, From Black Power to Black Studies: How a Radical Movement Became an Academic Discipline. (­Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2007). 7 See Manning Marable, “­A Debate on Activism in Black Studies: A Plea that Scholars Act Upon, Not Just Interpret Events,” New York Times, April 4, 1988, Section B, 11. 8 The African Studies Association (­A SA) was said to have first fielded panels on LGBT at its November 1995 annual meeting in Orlando on the topic, “­Homosexuality in Africa: Does It Exist and Why Does It Matter.” See Deborah P. Amory, “‘­Homosexuality’ in Africa: Issues and Debates,” Issues: A Journal of Opinion 25(­1), 1997: 5.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Ade Ajayi, Jacob Festus and Tamuno, Tekena N. (­eds.). The University of Ibadan, ­1948–​ ­1973: A History of the First ­Twenty-​­Five Years (­I badan: Ibadan University Press, 1973). Adeleke, Tunde. “­A gainst ­Euro-​­Cultural Hegemony: Black Americans, Afrocentricity and Globalization.” In W. Ommundsen, M. Leach,  & A. Vandenberg (­eds.), Cultural Citizenship and the Challenges of Globalization (­Cresskill, NJ: Putnam Press, 2010), ­225–​­44. Afigbo, Adiele E. The Poverty of African Historiography (­Idanre: Agrografrika Publishers, 1977). Afolayan, Funso. “­A frican Historiography.” In K. Shillington (­ed.), Encyclopedia of African History. Vol. 2 (­New York: Fitzroy Dearborn, 2005), ­626–​­33. Arowosegbe, Jeremiah O. “­A frican Scholars, African Studies and Knowledge Production on Africa.” Africa 86(­2), 2016: ­324–​­38. Arowosegbe, Jeremiah. O. “­ A frican Studies and the Bias of Eurocentricism.” Social Dynamics: A Journal of African Studies 40(­2), 2014: ­308–​­21. Arowosegbe, Jeremiah. O. “­Introduction: African Studies and the Universities in Postcolonial Africa.” Social Dynamics: A Journal of African Studies 40(­2), 2014: ­243–​­54. Arowosegbe, Jeremiah. O. “­The Social Sciences and Knowledge Production in Africa: The Contribution of Claude Ake.” Africa Spectrum 43(­3), 2008: ­333–​­51. Awe, Bolanle. “­The Institute of African Studies in an African University.” In B. A. Mojuetan (­ed.), Ibadan at 50, 1 ­948–​­1998: Nigeria’s Premier University in Perspective (­I badan: Ibadan University Press, 2000), 7­ 9–​­95. Bates, Robert, Mudimbe, Valentine Y.,  & O’Barr, J. (­eds.). Africa and the Disciplines (­Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1993). Bernal, Martin. Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of Classical Civilization, Vol. 1. The Fabrication of Ancient Greece, ­1785–​­1985 (­New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1987). Bernal, Martin. Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of Classical Civilization, Vol. 2. The Archaeological and Documentary Evidence (­New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1991). Callahan, John F. In the ­African-​­American Grain: Call and Response in Twentieth Century Black Fiction (­M iddletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1988), ­14–​­17.

294 Bibliography

Callaway, Helen. Gender, Culture and Empire: European Women in Colonial Nigeria (­Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1987). Cartwright, Keith. Reading Africa into American Literature (­L exington, KY: The University Press of Kentucky, 2002). Diop, Cheikh A. The Cultural Unity of Black Africa (­Chicago, IL: Third World Press, 1959). Diop, Cheikh A. The African Origin of Civilization: Myth or Reality (­New York: Lawrence Hill, 1974). Diop, Cheikh A. “­Origins of the Ancient Egyptians.” In G. Mokhtar (­ed.), UNESCO General History of Africa, Vol. 2. Ancient Civilizations of Africa (­Berkeley: The University of California Press, 1981), ­27–​­57. Diop, Cheikh A. Civilization or Barbarism: An Authentic Anthropology (­Chicago, IL: Lawrence Hill, 1991). Falola, Toyin. African Historiography: Essays in Honor of Jacob Ade Ajayi (­Harlow: Longman, 1993). Falola, Toyin, & Christian Jennings (­eds.). Africanizing Knowledge: African Studies across the Disciplines (­New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 2002). Fanon, Frantz. The Wretched of the Earth (­New York: Grove Press, 1963). Gains, Kevin K. American Africans in Ghana: Black Expatriates and the Civil Rights Era (­Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2002). Gates Jr., Henry L. The Signifying Monkey; A Theory of African American Literary Criticism (­New York: Oxford University Press, 1988). Guyer, Jane I. African Studies in the United States: A Perspective (­Atlanta, GA: African Studies Association Press, 1996). Harris Jr., Robert L. “­Coming of Age: The Transformation of A ­ fro-​­American Historiography.” The Journal of Negro History 67, 1982: ­107–​­21. ­Hudson-​­Weems, Clenora. “­A fricana Womanism and the Critical Need for Africana Theory and Thought.” Western Journal of Black Studies 21(­3), Summer 1997: ­79–​­84. ­Hudson-​­Weems, Clenora. Africana Womanism: Reclaiming Ourselves (­New York: Routledge, 2020). Inikori, Joseph E. “­Inequalities in the Production of Historical Knowledge.” Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 16(­1), 1996: ­122–​­24. Jewsiewicki, Boghumi, & David Newbury (­eds.). African Historiographies: What History for Which Africa? (­Beverly Hills, CA: SAGE, 1986). Kambon, Kobi K. K. ­African-​­Black Psychology in the American Context: An African Centered Approach (­Tallahassee, FL: Nubian Nation Publications, 1998). ­ 900–​­1950 (­Athens: Ohio UniKanogo, Tabitha. African Womanhood in Colonial Kenya, 1 versity Press, 2005). Karenga, Maulana. Introduction to Black Studies (­L os Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 2010). Karenga, Maulana. “­Names and Notions of Black Studies: Issues of Roots, Range, and Relevance.” Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: ­41–​­64. Kershaw, Terry. “­The Emerging Paradigms in Black Studies.” In T. Anderson (­ed.), Black Studies: Theory, Methods, and Cultural Perspectives (­Pullman: Washington State University Press, 1990), ­17–​­24. ­K i-​­Zerbo, Joseph, (­ed.) UNESCO General History of Africa, Vol. 1, Methodology and African Prehistory (­Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981). Lambert, Richard D. et al. Beyond Growth: The Next Stage in Language and Area Studies (­Washington, DC: Association of American Universities, 1984). Layiwola, Dele (­ed.). A Handbook of Methodology in African Studies (­I badan: John Archers, 1999).

Bibliography  295

Mamdani, Mahmood. “­Centre for African Studies: Some Preliminary Thoughts.” Social Dynamics: A Journal of African Studies 22(­2), 1996: ­1–​­14. McKelvey, Charles. Beyond Ethnocentricism: A Reconstruction of Marx’s Concept of Science (­New York: Greenwood Press, 1991). Meriwether, James H. Proudly We Can Be Africans: Black Americans and Africa, 1 ­ 935–​­1961 (­Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2002). Mudimbe, Valentine Y. The Invention of Africa: Gnosis, Philosophy and the Order of Knowledge (­Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1988). Myers, Garth A. Verandahs of Power: Colonialism and Space in Urban Africa (­New York: Syracuse University Press, 2003). Neale, Caroline. Writing Independent History: African Historiography, ­1960–​­1980. (­Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1985). Nkrumah, Kwame. “­Address Delivered to Mark the Opening of the First International Congress of Africanists.” The Proceedings of the First International Congress of Africanists, 1964. Ntsebeza, Lungisile. “­A frican Studies at UCT: An Overview.” In T. Nhlapo and H. Garuba (­eds.), African Studies in the Postcolonial University (­Cape Town: University of Cape Town, 2012), ­1–​­21. Okafor, Victor. Towards an Understanding of Africology (­Dubuque: Kendall/­Hunt, 2013). Olukoju, Ayodeji. “­The Crisis of Research and Academic Publishing in Nigerian Universities.” In P. Tiyambe Zeleza and A. Olukoshi (­eds.), African Universities in the T ­ wenty-​ ­first Century, Vol. II: Knowledge and Society (­Dakar: CODESRIA, 2004). 363–75. Oyebade, Adebayo. “­Toyin Falola and the Historiography of Colonial Economy.” In A. Oyebade (­ed.), The Foundations of Nigeria (­Trenton: Africa World Press, 2003), 2­ 7–​­54. Oyebade, Adebayo. “­A fricanizing Knowledge: The Burden of Academic Historiography,” in Toyin Falola, ed., Myth, History and Society: The Collected Works of Adiele Afigbo (­Trenton: Africa World Press, 2005), 2­ 9–​­34. Oyebade, Adebayo. “­A frica in History: Interpretations, Perspectives, and Methods.” In T. Falola and Steven J. Salm (­eds.), Africa Volume I: African History and Culture before 1900 (­Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2019), ­5 –​­26. Ranger, Terence O. “­Towards a Useable African Past.” In C. Fyfe (­ed.), African Studies Since 1945: A Tribute to Basil Davidson (­L ondon: Longman, 1976), ­17–​­30. ­Reid-​­Merritt, Patricia. “­Defining Ourselves: Name Calling in Black Studies.” Journal of Black Studies 40(­1), 2009: ­77–​­90. Reynolds, Glenn. Colonial Cinema in Africa: Origins, Images, Audiences ( ­Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2015). Rodney, Walter. How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (­Washington, DC: Howard University Press, 1982). Rojas, Fabio. From Black Power to Black Studies: How a Radical Movement became an Academic Discipline (­Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2007). Rooks, Noliwe M. White Money, Black Power: The Surprising History of African American Studies and the Crisis of Race in Higher Education (­Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2006). Schlesinger Jr., A. The Disuniting of America: Reflections on a Multicultural Society ( ­L ondon: W.W. Norton & Co. 1998). Shaka, Femi O. Modernity and the African Cinema: A Study in Colonialist Discourse, Postcoloniality, and Modern African Identities (­Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, 2004). Temu, Arnold,  & Bonaventure Swai. Historians and Africanist History: A Critique: P ­ ost-​ ­Colonial Historiography Examined (­L ondon: Zed, 1981). Uzong, E. Africology. The Union Academic Council Series, African Studies Volume 1 ( ­L ondon: The Union Academic Council for African Studies, 1969).

296 Bibliography

Wilson, Amos. The Falsification of Afrikan Consciousness: Eurocentric History, Psychiatry and the Politics of White Supremacy (­New York: Afrikan World Infosystems, 1993). Woodson, Carter G. The Miseducation of the Negro (­Saint Paul, MN: Wilder Publications, 1990/­2016). Wright, William D. Black Intellectuals, Black Cognition, and a Black Aesthetic (­Westport, CT: Praeger, 1997). Wright, William D. Black History and Black Identity: A Call for a New Historiography (­Westport, CT: Praeger, 2002). Wright, William D. Crisis of the Black Intellectual (­Chicago, IL: Third World Press, 2007). Zulu, Itabari. “­A fricana Studies: Post Black Studies Vagrancy in Academe.” The Journal of Pan African Studies 5(­7 ), 2012: ­3 –​­8.

INDEX

Note: Page numbers followed by “n” denote endnotes. abolitionism 167, 177 abusua 177 academic freedom 97, 104 Accra 69, 170, 256; Conference 70, 72, 88, 90 Achimota College 87, 88 Afonja, Simi 220, 221 African Diaspora 2, 30, 31, 40, 47, 66, 67, 68, 141n1, 241, 246, 289, 290; Studies 46 African Notes xii, 91 African personality 66, 67, 68, 102 African Studies Association of Africa (ASAA) 92 Africanist 7, 8, 9, 12, 77, 110; congress 90; scholarship 8 Africology 6, 9, 10, 30, 33, 37, 40, 41, 46, 141n1; department of 36, 42, 43; doctoral program in 37 Afro-Brazilians 4 Afrofuturism 212 Ahmadu Bello University 219, 224 Ajayi, Jacob F. Ade 3, 8 Akan 137, 138, 167, 171, 204 Akwete 145, 146, 151 Al-Azhar 82 Ali, Muhammad 69 All-African Peoples Conference 101 Ancient Egypt 22, 26, 27, 112, 113; culture 24; people 138 Angelou, Maya 69 Asante 176; colonial 17; confederation 172; wars 170, 177

Asante, Molefi Kete 22, 23, 25, 26, 27, 31, 33, 46, 114, 130, 289; on Africology 36, 37; on Afrocentrism/Afrocentricity 9, 20, 24, 28, 111, 118; on Ancient Egypt 112; on homosexuality 134; as scholar 6, 8, 17, 21, 72, 184 Association for the Study of Negro Life and History 3, 48 Association of Black Women Historians (ABWH) 203 Awe, Bolanle 91, 219 Azibo, Daudi Ajani Ya 46, 136 Azikiwe, Nnamdi 47 Bakongo 131, 138 Bauman, Zygmunt 263 Bhabha, Homi 263 bisexual 126, 127, 131, 132, 135, 139, 140, 290 bisexuality 137 Black Campus Movement (BCM) 48 black empowerment movement 31 Black Lives Matter Movement 205, 238 black power 18, 31, 48, 62, 73, 204; advocates 72; consciousness 59; ideology 49; vision 32 black power movement 31, 69, 71, 72, 211, 212 Blackface minstrelsy 244 Blyden, Edward 48, 82, 83, 84; and PanAfricanist Movement 85 Boahen, Adu 3

298 Index

British Empire 87, 148, 155 Brown versus Board of Education of Topeka 32 Bureau of African Affairs 69 Cairo 82 Cape Coast Colony 174, 178 Caribbean 4, 5, 11, 30, 36, 40, 42, 67, 68, 127, 131, 132; literature 18; studies 23, 41, 55 Carmichael, Stokely 49, 66, 71, 73, 74, 208 Carroll, Karanja Keita 46 Casely Hayford, J.E. 84 Cheikh Anta Diop University 3 Christianity 229, 230 Civil Rights Movement 19, 31, 32, 49, 69, 71, 166, 208, 288 civil rights revolution 2, 3, 7, 166 civilizing mission 147, 148, 153, 156, 160, 161, 174, 175, 278 Clark, Andrew 237 Clark Atlanta University 3 Clarke, John Henrik 2, 130 Clarke, Liz 166, 169, 170 Commonwealth 68 Cornell University 3, 5, 45, 49, 72; African Studies and Research Center 36 The Crisis 48 Crummel, Alexander 85 Davidson, Basil 4, 67, 70 Davis, Ossie 240 decolonization 2, 5, 77, 93, 98, 122, 220; of Africana Studies 289; era 288; mental 118, 120, 121 Delany, Martin 85 Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) 169 dependency theory 70 Dike, Kenneth Onwuka 88 Diop, Cheikh Anta 3, 112 Dogon 131, 138, 288 dual mandate 148 DuBois, W.E.B. 2, 12, 21, 48, 52, 290 East African Women’s League 281 East India Company 82, 83 Eastern Michigan University 6, 41, 42 Egerton, Sir Walter 86 Eurocentric 8, 20, 49, 67, 103, 111, 123, 129, 130, 135, 288; education/ scholarship 3, 68, 113; hegemony of 109, 114, 289; perspective 9, 11, 127; worldview 110

Fage, John 8 Fanon, Frantz 4, 25, 49, 119, 122 Federal University of Bahia 4 feminism 7, 205, 211, 215, 216, 218, 219, 220, 222, 223, 225, 226, 231 Fez 82 First International Conference of Africanists 69 First World War 82, 85, 86, 158; see also World War I Fisk University 45, 47, 54, 55, 59; Black/ African and African American Studies at 52, 54, 58, 60, 62; students at 50 Fourah Bay 82, 83, 85, 86 Franklin, John Hope 2, 245, 246 Frazier, Franklin E. 2 Freedom Rides 50 Garnet, Henry 48 Garvey, Marcus 4, 21, 67, 85 Gates Jr., Henry Louis 37, 68, 238, 290 genocide 49; Rwandan 169 globalization 31, 113, 114, 116; neoliberal 95, 97, 99 Gold Coast 3, 84, 88, 171, 174, 177; British court in 170; colonial 170; workers in 86 Gold Coast Times 177 Great Zimbabwe 288 griots 242, 243, 246, 249, 251 Haiti 55, 138 Hamer, Fannie Lou 208 Hare, Nathan 1, 20, 33, 50, 129 Harris, Jr. Robert L. 5 Harvard University 3, 7, 38, 237, 238, 239, 250; Glee Club 237, 238 Hayter Commission 4 HBCUs 3, 19, 45, 46, 47, 51, 57, 61; African/Africana Studies at 47, 48, 57, 59, 62; courses offered 53; students 49 Henige, David 8 Herskovits, Melville 7, 47, 54 Historically Black Colleges and Universities see HBCUs historiography 80, 177, 208; African 166, 168, 169, 170, 177, 179; African American 288; American 166; colonial 161; nationalist 79; postcolonial 70; southern 241 homosexual 127, 131, 132, 134, 136, 290 Horton, Africanus 84 Howard University 3, 27, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, 62, 73; students 47, 51

Index  299

imperialism 5, 67, 70, 172, 114, 120, 123; academic 93, 99, 100, 102; British 147; cultural 122; global 114 interculturality 264, 267 International Congress of African Studies (ICAS) 92 internationalization 99, 100, 104 intersex 132, 139 Islam 229, 230 James, C.L.R. 4 Jawaharlal Nehru University 5 Jim Crow 28, 31, 48, 166, 208, 209 Johnson, Samuel 3 Joyner, Charles 241 Karenga, Maulana 19, 32, 35, 36, 38, 40, 46 Kemet 22, 52, 113, 139 Kemetic 22, 23, 24, 46, 112, 138, 139 Kenyatta, Jomo 67, 274, 275 Kershaw, Terry 19 King, Jr., Martin Luther 69, 208 Kiwanuka, M. S. M. 3 Kony, Joseph 169 Kyle, Richard 167 Lagos 86, 87, 145, 168, 262 land tenure 152, 153, 155 Latin America 4, 5, 6, 23, 68, 70, 81 Levine, Lawrence 245, 247, 248 LGBTQ 290, 291 Liberia 55, 84 Libya 258 Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) 169 lost boys 169 Makerere College/University 3, 85, 88, 103 Mali 131, 138; Kingdom of 168 Malone, Bill 240, 243, 245 Mandela, Nelson 168, 169 Mandinka 169 Marable, Manning 37 Mau Mau 272, 275, 280 Mazama, Ama 33, 34, 118 miseducation 102 Myers, Linda James 46, 130 NAACP see National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) Nash, Diane 50, 208 National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) 48, 236

National Council for Black Studies (NCBS) 9, 38 National Council of Women Societies (NCWS) 222 nationalism 81, 103, 134 Native Authority 154, 159 Ndongo 168 Negro History Week 39 Negro Student Union 32 neocolonialism 70, 71, 102, 103 neoliberalism 95, 96 Network for Women’s Studies in Nigeria (NWSN) 223 Ngugi, wa Thiong’o 109, 119, 120, 121, 122 Nigerian academy 218, 219, 221 Nile Valley 46, 112, 131, 139 Non-Aligned Movement 68 Nzinga 168 Obafemi Awolowo University 220, 221, 225 Obama, Barak 166, 236 Obama, Michelle 205 Oduduwa 229 Ogot, Bethwell Allan 3 Omeka 57, 58, 61; digital collection 61; mainframe 62 oral histories 57, 58, 60, 177 Oriental Studies 80, 89 Oshoko, Abraham 167, 168 Padmore, George 4, 67, 69 palm oil 157, 158, 159, 171, 176 Pan-African project 35 Pan-Africanism 7, 71, 73, 74, 85 paternalism 178 pedagogy 54, 179, 225 Phillips, Ulrich B. 241, 247 Qarawiyin Madrassa 82 Ranger, Terence 8 Ravitch, Diane 37 Rawlings, Jerry John 256 Reindorf, Carl 3 same-sex marriage 132, 291 San Francisco State College 1, 45; Black Students Union at 72; Black Studies Program 20, 30, 31–33, 129 Sankore 82 Schomburg, Arthur A. 2 School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) 4

300 Index

Second World War 152, 158, 159; see also World War II Shaka 168 Shona 288 Soyinka, Wole 90 Students Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) 73 Sudan 84, 88, 131, 169 Sundiata, Keita 168 Tannhäuser 249, 250 Tarzan 167 Temple University 6, 36, 38, 126, 127, 184; Department of Africology/African American Studies 6, 9, 23, 42; graduate studies/program 17, 18, 72 Tennessee State University 166, 173; Africana Studies Program 10, 45, 50 Timbuktu 82 Tindall, George 244 trans-Atlantic slave trade 80, 171 transculturality 264 Uganda 3, 85, 88, 103, 169, 276, 280 United Kingdom 4, 71, 72, 73, 97, 272 United Nations 68, 88 Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA) 71 University College of the Gold Coast 69, 88, 95; see also University of Ghana University of Bayreuth 4 University of Birmingham 4, 245 University of California 91; at Berkeley 38; at Los Angeles 72; at Riverside 246 University of Cambridge 4, 90, 237, 249, 250 University of Columbia 3, 53 University of Delhi 5 University of Edinburgh 4 University of Ghana 3, 4, 69, 88, 94, 99, 100, 103; see also University College of the Gold Coast

University of Ibadan 3, 89, 90, 219; Institute of African Studies 4, 70, 88; Peace and Conflict Studies Program 91 University of Leeds 4 University of London 4, 69, 85, 86, 88 University of Michigan 3 University of Mumbai 5 University of São Paulo 4 University of Sierra Leone 4 University of Warsaw 4 University of Wisconsin 6, 36, 37, 42 University of Zambia 4 utopianism 260, 261, 264 Vansina, Jan 8 Washington, Booker T. 21, 52, 236 Wells, Ida B. 210, 215 West, Cornel 238 Western education 82, 85, 97, 152 Wilks, Ivor 8 Williams, George Washington 71 Williams, Sylvester 85 Women in Nigeria (WIN) 222, 223, 230 Women’s Research and Documentation Centre (WORDOC) 91, 221, 223, 224, 225, 226 Woodson, Carter G. 2, 3, 21, 39, 48, 53, 54, 71 World Bank 98, 99, 104 World War I 272; see also First World War World War II 2, 3, 5, 55, 278; see also Second World War X, Malcolm 69, 208, 209 Yale University 3, 72 Zulu 137, 138, 168 Zulu, Itibari M. 38